
■evic AUTOBI- 
OGRAPHY^ 
GREYHOUND 




COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 

























PUP 





















□ 

pgra|g 

wSSr SKli* 


Illustrated. Animal 


Autobiographical Series 

□ 

PUP 

^he Autobiography 
ofa 

v?A. \~jCS } 

GREYHOUND 

ky 

Ollie Hurd Bragdon 

d/PutfiQr of c XDh& Moon Party 

ra 

jwpjj 

V 

1 

VSv^ A*wjQ>^ 

H M Caldwell Co. 

BOSTON -NEW YORK 1 
9 

rPH3S@ 

IL_!SS§yGlii] 





□ 

s^F? 1 



A 





□ 




LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
I mu Comes Received 



JUN 26 1906 

joyyrium tmry 
>*^vue_ 2 . (o. 1 9 o g 
4 iLASS ° AXc. Not 

/ao / 33 

COPY B. 



Copyright , 7905 
By H. M. Caldwell Co. 


COLONIAL PRESS 

Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Sitnonds Co. 
Boston , U. S. A. ' 



" Com,” -Bertha, anto &lice 

THIS BOOK 
IS 


AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED 





Contents 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. PUPPYHOOD I 

II. Glimpses of an Outer World . . 9 

III. In Quest of an Ancestor ... 20 

IV. New Masters 28 

V. Incidents and Accidents ... 36 

VI. Heroes of the Gridiron ... 47 

VII. The Battle of the Swans . . . 55 

VIII. My Ship Comes in 62 

IX. The “ Stowaway ” 72 

X. Ill Winds 83 

XI. New Friends 97 

XII. Mishaps hi 

XIII. The Family Flight . . . .124 

XIV. New Neighbours 134 

XV. “ Tit for Tat ” 144 

XVI. “Collie” of the Fog -bell . . 15 1 

XVII. Strained Relations .... 163 

XVIII. The Mystery of the Tempest . . 175 

XIX. Kidnapped 185 

XX. A Forest Cabin 197 

XXI. Voices of the Wilderness . . . 206 

XXII. A Battle to the Death . . . 216 

XXIII. “Old Masters, Yellow Dogs, and 

Fiddles ” 228 

XXIV. In the Hands of the Enemy . . 238 

XXV. The End of the Quest . . . 247 












List of Illustrations 


♦ 

PAGE y 

Pup ........ Frontispiece 

Newfoundland 66 

“The boys and I were first -rate chums all 

summer” r 35 

“ A MAGNIFICENT COLLIE SEIZED THE ROPE IN 

HIS TEETH” 153 

Watching Tom off on a Cruise . . .185 

Camping in the Maine Woods .... 218 


/ 

/ 

/ 



















PUP 


CHAPTER I. 

PUPPYHOOD 

Since the events transpired which I relate in 
these chapters, I, too, have stood in the proud 
ranks of bemedalled and blue-ribboned dogs that 
have graced the floor of Exhibition Hall in the 
midst of admiring throngs, and with my mother 
and brothers beside me in the same kennel; I, 
too, have won the insignia of merit and laid a 
first prize as one of my proudest offerings at my 
master's feet — the dear master to whom heart of 
dog could never feel too grateful or too loyal. 

I have walked in proud consciousness of my 
right to liberty, unrestrained by leash or muzzle, 
by the side of my gentle mistress, safeguarding 
her steps in many an evening ramble, trusted and 
beloved and happy; and now that the way of my 
life lies in the midst of such pleasant associations, 
1 


PUP 


I can but look back at times upon the events that 
have all conspired to make me a happy dog in 
a happy home. 

There is so much in the life of a dog that is 
worth the telling, and so much in the hearts of 
us dumb creatures that ought to be revealed, that 
I am going to turn story-teller and relate the ad- 
ventures of my first years, and incidentally lay 
bare the heart of at least one dog — that of myself, 
an English greyhound. 

There has been a time in my early life when I 
could not have told my story as I can tell it now: 
a time when I was a dog of the city streets, va- 
grant, ill-mannered, and worse nourished; yet, in 
spite of all, a trifle more dignified than the mongrel 
thousands that swarm alleys and byways or gather 
in quarrelsome squads at street corners; a time 
when I was kicked about “ from pillar to post,” 
feeling that the hand of man was ready, upraised, 
and the heart of the world was cold toward me. 

And what wonder ! When one must steal to 
satisfy the pangs of hunger, one is naturally branded 
a thief, and when one shows his teeth at brutal 
blows, one may quite as undeservedly get the repu- 
tation of “ savage,” however much the heart may 
be longing for sympathy and love. As the early 
part of my life was lived under such conditions, 
I knew nothing of the wonderful life I now enjoy, 
nor could I know that men were different in kind, 
as well as dogs. 


2 


PUP 


My early puppyhood was a profound mystery 
to me. In fact, the first few weeks of it were 
spent mostly in sleep, — the few waking moments 
being devoted chiefly to eating and to waddling 
about the room trying to get a bit of strength in 
my trembling legs. About all the sensations I was 
conscious of were those of hunger when I awoke, 
and weariness after a brief toddling effort about 
the room, both of which were soon drowned in 
sweet slumber at my mother’s side. 

My brain was yet too young to receive impres- 
sions of my surroundings, but it happened that I 
became conscious one day that a change of some 
kind had come into my life. I was hungry without 
being satisfied, and cold without that something 
that used to be so soft and warm to cuddle against. 

There was some sort of an attempt to feed me 
— a most disagreeable process ; a great coarse man 
every now and then grasped me in his heavy hand 
and dipped my nose into a shallow pan having 
something in it that I afterward learned was milk. 
But it was so cold, and it tickled my nose so, that 
I sneezed and sneezed and struggled to get free; 
then, with loud, rough words, which I think must 
have been profanity, he would chuck me into a 
cold corner amongst some foul-smelling mats and 
leave me, still hungry and cold, and whining to 
be made comfortable. After this operation had 
been repeated a few times, I accidentally discovered, 
in lapping the stuff from about my nose after it 

3 


PUP 


had been so roughly ducked in the dish, that this 
strange food really tasted very good to the half- 
famished little wretch I had come to be; not like 
the warm, sweet mother’s-milk, but something that 
would at least ease that dreadful gnawing at my 
heart — or somewhere inside me — I really couldn’t 
exactly locate it then, for it seemed to me I was 
miserable all over. So, after a few days, I was 
lapping milk from my little pan quite neatly, only 
sneezing once in a while when I happened to lose 
my balance, and, toppling forward, plunged my nose 
to the bottom. 

I was kept pretty well fed now that I could 
drink from my pan, and only felt hungry when 
my master came in now and then sick, and tum- 
bled into another corner to sleep, without remem- 
bering my supper. 

Knowing nothing of men’s ways then, how could 
I know that he was drunk? 

I had grown quite fast, and grown strong, dur- 
ing these weeks, and now began to look for some 
amusement. I was still shut in the room and knew 
nothing of the outside world, save what glimpses 
I caught through a small window high above my 
head: for it seems that I was confined in a base- 
ment — a low, dark, underground place, where 
my master came only to feed me and to sleep after 
his day’s work was over. Occasionally a dog on the 
sidewalk would stop and look in, sniff, and bark, and 
disappear; sometimes two or three would come 

4 


PUP 


together, and thus I came to know that I was in 
some way a prisoner; that there was an outside 
world to which I had no access, and many dogs 
of different kinds, and that all played together. 

Naturally, I felt lonely and longed for liberty 
and companions. 

Gradually, a vague sense of once having cuddled 
down among other little fellow creatures came over 
me, and I realized I had been taken from them 
— taken from my mother and brothers. I wanted 
to get out of this dark room; I wanted some one 
to play with. Once in a while I ventured to frolic 
about my master: sometimes he was good-natured 
and amused me for a long time; again he kicked 
and swore, and drove me off trembling to my 
corner. 

To beguile my loneliness, I took to stripping up 
the mats with my teeth. It was fun to hear the 
sound of tearing and to see the rags fly about. 
Once, some live thing ran across the room, and I 
chased it into a hole in the corner, — it was a rat, 
but I did not know it then, — and once, when my 
master was asleep, and I had capered about him 
and nipped his fingers, and coaxed him for a frolic 
without succeeding in awakening him, — I sup- 
pose he was drunk, — I caught sight of his hat 
on the floor. I had great sport with this for awhile, 
biting it, shaking it, and ransacking about the room 
until the hat was in shreds and I was tired out. 

But the terrible curses of my master when he 

s 


PUP 


awoke, and the cuffs he gave me, terrified me so 
that I never touched his hat again. I took a shoe 
next time, — but that didn’t seem to please him, 
either, and I got only more curses and cuffs. 

A puppy must have something to do, as well as 
boys and girls, and so I took to watching the hole 
in the corner, hoping the rat would come out again. 
I sniffed around it and yapped into it, hoping to 
scare the thing out, but it wouldn’t come for either 
coaxing or threatening. Disgusted with my re- 
peated failure to rout either friend or enemy from 
the rat-hole, I turned confidently to my little win- 
dow; here, at least, a dog would come again some- 
time, I knew. Perhaps I might even coax one 
down through the old screen through which the 
dust-loaded air sifted into our cellar. Anything 
was better than an empty rat-hole, or sniffing about 
the pile of dirty old mats that constituted my bed 
in the corner; so I laid persistent siege to the 
window. I squatted upon my haunches under- 
neath it and pitched my puppy voice high. I can’t 
remember exactly the words I used, but this is 
what I tried to say: 

“ Hello, you fellows up there ! Come down and 
see a poor, miserable little cur, can’t you? Hello! 
Hello ! ! Hello ! ! ! ” and thus I kept up a continual 
fire of “ hellos ” until, at last, a big black muzzle 
was thrust against the screen, and a gruff voice 
barked back at me — you see the owner was past 
the yapping age: 


6 


PUP 


“ Hello, youngster! What’s up down cellar? 
Bow, wow, wow! What are you shut up in that 
dark hole for? Can’t you get out? It’s lots more 
fun out here where the rest of us fellows are ! ” 
How I leaped and wiggled and yapped when I 
saw the big, friendly face! 

“Don’t you suppose I know that?” I whined. 
“ Do you think I would stay here if I could get 
out ? Don’t go off and leave me ! Can’t you break 
through and come down ? ” 

“ Can’t,” the big black dog barked back ; “am 
afraid of some trap. Can’t you jump up here and 
get out ? ” 

I tried ; I leaped frantically against the side of 
the wall, ran back and forth and yapped and yelped 
and whined; but I couldn’t jump high enough, 
and even had I reached the window-ledge I very 
greatly doubt if I could have forced the screen. 
Men have such a way of fixing things! 

After a few days I gave up trying to get out 
by the window. All my leaping against the wall 
resulted in nothing save utter weariness, unless 
— as I am quite sure it did now that I look back 
upon it — the exercise strengthened my legs, which 
was quite providential, since I depended upon them 
so much later on, to get me out of various scrapes. 
But the yapping, I found, brought me friends ; 
so I decided to keep it up. I yapped all day and 
a good part of each night; I yapped whenever I 


7 


PUP 


thought of it, until it became so much of a habit 
that I frequently gave a yap in my dreams. 

Do not suppose that this step on my part brought 
me into no difficulty : I more than once fled yelping 
to my corner from a vicious kick in the ribs; I 
dodged my master’s flying shoes or an empty 
whiskey-flask, and trembled at the oaths poured 
from his half-drunken lips. But when, in addi- 
tion to my other grievances, I was left for two 
days at a time without food, I felt that I must 
continue my cry for liberty and companionship. 

I am sure, now that I look back over the events 
of these days, at the circumstances as they occurred 
in order, that it was about this time my master 
was discharged from his position as coachman to 
a gentleman in the suburbs of Boston; that the 
prolonged debauches at home were during his days 
of idleness when he was drinking up the last dollar 
of his earnings. 

But it was to one of these insensate drunks that 
I owe my first sniff of the air of freedom; also 
a little adventure that is perhaps worth the telling. 


8 


PUP 


CHAPTER II. 

GLIMPSES OF AN OUTER WORLD 

It had been a warm, stifling day in my base- 
ment prison. I had had nothing to eat or drink since 
the evening before, and my master was lying in 
a wretched heap in his corner, arousing only now 
and then to drink from a black bottle at his side, 
too stupid, even, to notice my yapping. I had 
cried myself hoarse for the friendly faces that often 
came to my window for a neighbourly greeting. 
I was half-distracted with hunger and thirst and 
confinement, and night was at hand, when a cheery 
face, with a whistle in it, peered down through the 
screen at me, and a jolly, gay voice called out, 
“ Hello, pup ! ” and a lot more which I could not 
understand then. I had not learned much of the 
language of men except oaths, never having seen 
any one save my master, and hearing only the 
voices of passers-by through the rattle and tramp 
of the street. This face was much smaller than 
my master’s, and it was the body of a very little 
man. Of course, I should now know at once that 
so very small a creature was a boy, but this was 


9 


PUP 


the first one I had seen and he appeared rather queer 
to me. However, he looked so jolly, and there was 
such a friendly ring in his voice, I was overjoyed 
to see him. I soon made him understand I was 
in trouble. 

Boys, as well as dogs, have odd tricks of get- 
ting around wherever they wish to go, and so in 
some mysterious manner he managed the alley and 
high picket-fence of the back yard and walked 
in upon me in my desolation, and my master in his 
drunken stupor. 

I do not recollect any subsequent moment of my 
life when more supreme joy entered my soul than 
when I found myself in the arms of this strange 
new friend. It was the first shock of a bliss des- 
tined to be as brief as it had been sudden. 

I wish I could have understood his words to 
me, but the hugs and pats, and the crooning voice, 
that I so well remember, I am sure I can put into 
words, now that I have learned so much of the 
common language of men. 

I wiggled and leaped all over him and lapped his 
chin and thrust my little damp nose into his hand, 
and coaxed and cried and laughed in hysterics of 
joy. He crept over to the corner to my master and 
peered into his face. He tried to hush my noisy 
welcome, and then, with me under his arm, he 
stole on tiptoe out into the garden once more, and, 
swinging aside a loose picket in the fence, crept 


10 


PUP 


through and ran as fast as his legs could carry him 
down the alley. 

I felt a great bewilderment steal over me. I 
was in such a strange, vast world ! Great build- 
ings loomed up. The wonderful brightness and 
space over my head, so unlike the low, black ceil- 
ing of my cellar! The long streets with many 
men — both big like my master, and little like my 
new friend — and other queer-looking people that 
were much like men except in their dress — I know 
them now to be women! Then the dogs: black 
dogs and yellow dogs, — big dogs and small dogs, 
— dogs led by chains and some little ones carried 
in arms by the women, as I was being carried by 
my new friend ! Oh, it was all very wonderful ! 
And I kept very quiet at first. Presently I espied 
my old friend of the black face and shiny, shaggy 
fur, and called out, “ Hello, hello ! Here I am 
out ! ” and struggled and whined to be put down. 
But I was held firmly in my rescuer’s arms, who, I 
am sure, knew there was danger of a poor, igno- 
rant little puppy like me getting lost in the con- 
fusion of so many things I knew nothing about. 

Thus was I carried through many streets, turn- 
ing and crossing, and pushing through throngs of 
people, and dodging carriages, — all completely be- 
wildering to my poor puppy brain, — until we 
finally came to a handsome house under many trees, 
with steps leading up to a wide entrance. 

This was Tom’s home. 

11 


PUP 


I did not realize how unfit I was, in my dirty 
coat, to leap into a lady's lap or stick my dusty 
nose into a gentleman’s moustache or tear about 
over rich carpets and furniture; and, after much 
such disastrous exhibition of joy, I was hustled off 
to the kitchen. 

Much that transpired of course I cannot relate; 
but, when I recollect how I was plunged into a 
tub of warm water and soaped and scrubbed, and 
rubbed with dry towels much against my will, and 
put upon a blanket by the kitchen stove to dry, I 
can well imagine Tom’s father and mother must 
have been quite disgusted at his bringing home such 
a forlorn and ill-mannered little wretch. However, 
I quite forgot my recent woes of the bath when 
cook set a brimming dish of milk before me. 

Oh, the warm, delicious sweetness of that supper ! 

Where, before, had I ever tasted anything so 
delectable ? I remember now — it was when I was 
still with my mother, — just the same sweetness, 
— just the same comforting warmth! Why had 
my master never thought to warm my milk or give 
it that delicate sweetness ? Surely he ought to know 
what puppies like ! And my blanket smelt so fresh, 
and my body felt so clean, and such appetizing 
odours pervaded the kitchen! Ah, this was living! 
And I snuggled down in the soft folds of my 
blanket and fell asleep from sheer content. 

When at last I awoke, my coat was dry. 

Tom stood over me, holding a soft, furry creature 

12 


PUP 


in his arms just about as big as the thing that 
had scuttled across my cellar floor, some plaything 
that he had brought me, I supposed, and, jumping 
out from under my blanket, I leaped up to it and 
yapped saucily in its face. Horrors! How was I 
to know any difference between a rat and a kitten, 
especially when I had never seen a kitten before, 
and but just one lone rat in all my puppyhood? 
How was I to know anything of the unfriendly 
spirit of dumb creatures, when all I had seen of 
dogs had been so kind? I knew men were cruel 
— that is, some men. But this spiteful little wretch 
in Tom’s arms humped its back, bristled its tail, 
and hissed, “ Sf-s-s-s-st ! Get out of here ! ” I 
was so astonished and shocked that I tucked my 
tail between my legs and slunk back into my 
blanket. I think Master Tom was ashamed of the 
kitten’s rudeness to his guest, for he took me back 
into the parlour, where I am glad to remember there 
was no serious misbehaviour on my part. 

That night I passed in blissful slumber, snuggled 
warm and contented, in the arms of Tom. 

Then the day came again — a day of such in- 
describable happiness, in contrast to which the 
recollection of those that followed until I was a 
year old still fills my dreams with such unspeakable 
terror that I often awake yelping and trembling. 
I seem to feel the same old cruel blows, the pangs 
of hunger ; and again loneliness envelops me, until, 
aroused from my nightmare, I draw a deep breath 

13 


PUP 


of relief to find that they have been but phantasms 
of sleep. 

Throughout all that perfect day with Tom never 
a foreboding of change entered my careless puppy 
head. I raced madly over the green sod of the 
wide back garden, tumbling about with Tom, who 
was as gay as myself. I pulled and bit at the 
grassy turf ; I leaped in sheer joy of freedom. Oh, 
the delicious intoxication of sweet-smelling air, and 
sunlight and liberty! 

I hung stubbornly back when they coaxed me in 
for dinner; I couldn’t afford to eat at the expense 
of even one moment of this blessed outside world! 
So my dish was brought and set in the shade of 
a tree, where I lapped in grateful appreciation of 
what kind friends were doing for me. 

I was hugged and patted and admired, until, had 
my head been old enough to dwell seriously upon 
a subject for any length of time, I think it must 
have been quite turned with all this flattery lavished 
upon me so suddenly. 

I did not know that many of Tom’s caresses were 
bestowed because he knew he was so soon to part 
with me, for I could not possibly have understood 
that pity for me, half-starved and forlorn as I was, 
had impelled him to steal me from my master until 
he could bathe and feed me, and ease me of some 
of my distress. But Tom knew it, and he also 
knew that at evening, at the latest, he must take 


14 


PUP 


me home, although it was but to return me to 
further misery. 

And so it came to pass that at nightfall, tucked 
carefully under his coat, I was carried back to my 
master. With a loving hug, Tom thrust me through 
the fence into the garden, dropped the loose picket 
into its place again and left me. I whined piteously 
to follow, but he ran swiftly down the alley and 
disappeared. 

Well, I was out-of-doors at least. I trotted about 
to see what the place was like. I found some grass, 
a tree, and a bucket with bits of waste food in it 

— cooked food, which I tasted for the first time. 
Thus I obtained my first knowledge of waste-barrels 
and foraging for my meals. At last, tired with the 
day’s excitement, I curled up on the grass beneath 
the tree and fell asleep. Many hours later, I think 
it must have been, — for the streets had become 
very quiet and a big, bright light hung in the sky, 

— I was aroused by a noise at the gate, and my 
master came into the garden. I hoped he would 
not see me, and, keeping my nose to the ground, 
I lay very quiet; but, just as he went down the 
short flight of steps and laid his hand upon the 
door, he turned and caught a glimpse of me upon 
the grass in the white moonlight. 

“ Hello, pup ! ” he exclaimed, in surprise. You 
see, I had come to understand these words through 
hearing them so often. 

He came back toward me and stood for a minute 

15 


PUP 


looking first at me and then about the yard, and 
finally, saying something which I could not under- 
stand, he turned again and went down into the 
house. I think he must have come to the con- 
clusion that I had not been out of the yard at 
all, and, since it seemed safe, he would let me stay 
where I was, possibly remembering the nights he 
had been kept awake by my yapping and glad to 
sleep in peace if I were only secure somewhere. 

This ended my constant confinement indoors, and 
likewise my days of hunger were past ; for if mas- 
ter, during his now frequent drunks, neglected to 
feed me, I could always resort to the waste-bucket, 
while a kind-hearted though not very tidy woman 
often set out a pan of water for me to drink. 

I found things pretty interesting these few follow- 
ing weeks, although I was restless shut behind a 
fence when other dogs appeared to have all their 
freedom. 

Dear old Newfoundland soon recognized my 
voice around the corner and found his way to my 
new quarters. It was so good to see his shiny, 
black face once more, and so much nearer than 
when he had to peer down into my dark and gloomy 
cellar. Now we could rub noses through the 
pickets in a most affectionate greeting. 

Soon other neighbours came to call : among them 
a bright little terrier, sleek and fat, with a hand- 
some, nail-studded collar about her neck — quite 
dapper and proud she looked. With these I had 

16 


PUP 


many an interesting chat, and they whined in sym- 
pathy over my imprisonment and would gladly have 
come inside. 

There were other dogs I did not like as well: 
one in particular — a yellow creature, with short, 
bristling hair ' and snappy eyes, who was always 
picking a quarrel with the terrier until she refused 
to play with him. 

There were other visitors than dogs came to 
my yard. One day, soon after I was allowed to 
remain out-of-doors, a cat came from out the house 
and walked around and finally approached me. I 
remembered too well the unfriendly spirit of Tom’s 
kitty, so I turned my back upon her, resolving to 
have nothing more to do with cats. Much to my 
surprise, however, she followed me, stuck her nose 
out and smelt of mine, rubbed up against my legs 
in a most cordial way, and then lay down in the 
sun near by, purring softly, and went off to sleep. 

I just stood and looked at her in amazement. 

So there was a difference in cats, too! 

Well, I was in no position to ignore any offer 
of genuine friendship, so I lay down and blinked 
away at her for a while, to see if she actually in- 
tended to be on neighbourly terms, and, finding her 
sleeping with such perfect good faith in me, I re- 
solved to accept her friendly advances, and I, too, 
slept in the warm sunshine. 

“ Mopsy,” the mistress called her ; and Mopsy 
and I became fast friends. If I got too frisky 

17 


PUP 


sometimes, she would cuff me gently with her 
soft paw and reduce me to propriety, and then 
cuddle down between my legs for a nap. 

Ah, Mopsy was a rare companion for a pup! 

My confidence in cats was restored. It was not 
until later, when a big, yellow fellow crept through 
the pickets one day, that I found out to my sorrow 
that all cats were not like my dear playfellow. 

I thought it quite the neighbourly, good-natured 
thing to do to welcome the stranger and invite her 
to play with Mopsy and me, and so I stepped 
up to her as confidently as you please, when 
“ Si-s-s-st! ” came the old, spiteful warning, and 
up went her back in the hump I so well remem- 
bered, and the big yellow tail was all a-bristle. I 
stopped in amazement. Could she really mean to 
meet me in that spirit? Right in my own yard, 
too! I couldn’t believe it; I thought she must 
be just joking with me. So I wiggled my tail in 
a most friendly manner and stuck out my nose 
and opened my mouth wide, laughing at her fool- 
ishness. 

" Yi-i-i-i, yi-i-i-i, yi-i-i! Horrors, what hit me? ” 
I yelped and fled, tail between legs, over to a re- 
mote corner, while the vicious beast took refuge in 
my tree and sat glaring at me with savage satis- 
faction. 

Why had I never discovered that cats had needles 
and pins in their paws ! I don’t believe Mopsy had 
claws ! My nose was scratched and smarting, and 

18 


PUP 


I whined in pain. It was then and there I made 
a solemn vow, with my eye fixed in hatred on my 
enemy in the tree, that I would suffer no cats in 
our yard again; and I kept my resolution. But 
didn’t I get some fun out of it, though! I laugh 
now at the recollection of the mad rackets around 
that old back yard, and the hours of fun I’ve had 
barking at my foes and scaring them ’most to 
death after I had them safely treed. The old yel- 
low cat had cause to remember me more than once 
because of the dirty trick she played me. 

But Mopsy continued my beloved companion; 
we played together, napped side by side in the shade 
of our tree, and lapped our milk fraternally from 
the same pan. 


19 


PUP 


CHAPTER III. 

IN QUEST OF AN ANCESTOR 

I must have been six months old or more when 
my master came home one night and locked a collar 
about my neck. All the neighbourhood dogs that 
frequented the alley wore collars, and I had often 
been joked in a friendly way about being a baby 
not big enough to wear one. 

But Newfoundland told me one day it was not 
safe to go out without a collar, as dogs without them 
disappeared and were never heard of again. So, 
as I was continually longing to get out with the 
others, I had also hoped I might have a collar put 
about my neck, although I think for the most part 
they are very uncomfortable things. But a most 
surprising circumstance happened after master 
locked the collar about my neck: he deliberately 
pulled off the loose picket and let me out with 
the dogs of the alley. I was simply dazed with 
surprise. I shook myself to see if I were actually 
awake and free. Then I looked up at him to see 
if he were going to beat me unless I came directly 
back ; but he simply said, “ Go it, pup ! ” and off I 

20 


PUP 


dashed, yapping like mad in excess of joy. My 
friends gathered excitedly around. They sniffed 
about me and examined my collar. It was not 
so fine as Terrier’s, but it was a collar; it pro- 
claimed my emancipation from raw puppyhood and 
ensured my safety. It was liberty, not fine regalia, 
I wanted, and at last I had it in full. I strutted 
and wiggled and laughed with wide-open mouth, and 
received all the congratulations most cordially, and 
at once joined in their sports. 

Now I came and went at will. 

Tom had been back to my yard several times to 
see me after my return from paying him the visit, 
and our friendship had developed into a passionate 
attachment. Now that I was out, I hoped to find 
him again. I looked up and down streets and into 
gardens, and scanned eagerly the faces of all the 
boys I met, hoping to see my beloved Tom. 

There had arisen a desire also to learn something 
of my parentage. I found no other dogs like me. 
I was tall and slender, and noticeably fine-looking. 
I was nearly all white, with pale yellow markings, 
delicate and refined. Strangers stopped to pat me, 
and I grew familiar with such expressions of ad- 
miration as, “ What a beauty ! ” “ Fine points,” and 
“ High bred,” until I wondered where I had been 
born, — surely not in that low, dark cellar, — and 
determined to find my mother if possible. 

I confided this secret resolve to Newfoundland 
one day, and, although he was interested and would 
21 


PUP 


like very much to help me, he knew of no English 
greyhounds in the city. 

I was beginning now to bark. My bow-wows 
were admirable — a trifle sharp yet, possibly, but 
without question I was fast arriving at the dignity 
of doghood, and took less and less delight in the 
pranks of my puppy days. Many of the vagrant 
dogs I had fallen among I came to dislike; they 
delighted in unseemly scrapping and backbiting and 
regular pitched battles. I took no part in these, 
save in self-defence when numbers would pitch 
upon me just for the mischief of a scrap, though 
I bear many a scar that tells its own story of tussles 
in which I came off victorious, if bleeding. 

My jaws were now become like iron, and my 
fangs long, sharp, and white as glistening ivory. I 
began to assume the dignified walk and habitual 
reserve of my breed ; consequently the vagrant 
hordes stood somewhat in awe of me. I still prowled 
streets and alleys, returning to my old quarters 
only at night, receiving there both kindness and 
harsh treatment, according to the mood of my mas- 
ter. I had learned to avoid him when I found him 
with the black bottle, and, by doing so, escaped 
much abuse that otherwise must have fallen upon 
my undeserving head. 

I was obliged to forage wholly now for my food, 
and became familiar with waste-barrels in all parts 
of the town, besides frequently stealing from mar- 
kets when opportunity offered. If detected, I was 

22 


PUP 


seldom caught, for my long, slim legs carried me 
swiftly out of reach and beyond pursuit. I was 
the fastest sprinter by great odds in the whole town. 
But one day I had an adventure that made me 
more careful, and it was many weeks before I got 
another taste of fresh meat, except what I nosed 
out of the waste-buckets. Not that I so much re- 
gretted it, after all, since it incidentally brought 
me to Tom. It happened in this way: 

I had been looking about some time for a good 
dinner. I was faint from long fasting. At last 
I bethought me of a certain good-natured market- 
man who occasionally threw me a bit of waste 
meat from his block when I happened to look in, 
as I frequently did in wandering by. 

I had been petted a good deal by the clerks in 
the shop, and found more than usual favour among 
them because of a peculiar knack I had of nosing 
about boxes and barrels and snapping up mice. 

With my long, slender nose I could pick one 
from its hiding-place quicker by far than the mar- 
ket cat could leap upon it, and one snap with my 
teeth ended its career as quickly. Being always 
proper in my behaviour while in the store, I re- 
ceived friendly encouragement and, as I remarked 
before, a piece of meat or a sweet marrow-bone 
now and then ; and why I should have abused their 
confidence that morning I never could exactly ex- 
plain. I had a feeling that I was up to a mean 
trick all the time, but something urged me on to it. 

23 


PUP 


I do not know whether it was evil associations 
that had corrupted me, or because it is the nature 
of animals to obtain food when hungry, wherever 
it can be found. 

At all events, I forgot the many courtesies and 
kindnesses of the men in the market that morning, 
when I saw a juicy roast displayed on a platter 
outside the door. It lay on a broad shelf over 
which hung chickens and birds and a carcass of 
lamb, all, however, out of my reach. 

Sneaking up unobserved, I quickly picked it off 
the platter and crawled under the shelf out of sight 
to enjoy my ill-gotten feast. 

The men in the market would never have dis- 
covered me; but a meddlesome passer-by noticed 
a big dog with an uncommonly big piece of fresh 
meat, and it looked so suspicious he called out 
to the men inside. I suspected trouble was brew- 
ing for me, and started on the run up the street 
with the meat in my jaws. I knew they were 
chasing me by the yells behind, but my long legs 
had never yet failed me in such an emergency, and 
I felt no fear. My trusty legs did their duty nobly, 
but my vacillating mind wrought me mischief. I 
espied my old friend Tom just then, only a little 
way ahead, and both hunger and pursuers were 
forgotten. Dropping my booty, I rushed excitedly 
on and leaped upon the back of my long-looked-for 
friend. For one brief moment I was in transports 
of joy, then a crashing blow fell upon my head, 

24 


PUP 


and I knew nothing more until I realized darkness 
was breaking away and my breath came in short 
gasps. 

Opening my eyes, I saw Tom bending pityingly 
over me, and a burly policeman, and the angry 
market-man, and a throng of people. 

Now and then I caught the words, “ Mad dog ! ” 
but Tom cried, “ Dear old pup, how you scared 
me ! ” and even now I do not always remember 
that a dog should not leap upon a person's shoul- 
ders from behind, although I have been scolded 
and punished for doing so many times. I can't 
stop to think of all the things I must not do when 
I am so overjoyed at seeing my friends. 

Tom felt sorry he had screamed, and the police- 
man was glad the blow from his club had only 
stunned me, and the marketman was glad it all 
happened, for he had caught the thief, and now 
the dog’s master should pay for the half-eaten 
roast. 

In spite of their numbers, and their clubs and 
badges, they would never have dragged me off to 
the station if Tom had not put his hand on my 
head and said, persuasively : “ Come, pup ; come 
along with me ! " I showed dangerous fangs to 
my enemies, but for dear, loving Tom — why, I 
would go anywhere on earth he chose to lead me ! 

So side by side we walked to the station, where 
I was to remain in custody until my master should 
arrive. The plate on my collar was examined, and 

25 


PUP 


some writing done on a piece of paper, and a police- 
man was sent off. 

Held for the theft of a roast! Not to be re- 
leased until my poor, drunken master satisfied the 
claims of the injured market-man! 

It is not every dog that is considered worth the 
price of a succulent rib-roast! But, after a string 
of useless oaths, my master left me in care of Tom 
and the fine fellows at “ Station R,” and tramped 
sullenly away to devise ways and means of obtain- 
ing the requisite sum of money. 

My head ached yet from the effect of the police- 
man’s blow, and I think they saw me rubbing it 
with my paw and pitied me, for one of the officers 
brought out a bottle and gave it to Tom, who 
sat down, and, drawing my head upon his lap, 
bathed it in some stuff that smelt just as my mas- 
ter’s breath used to smell when he came in drunk. 
It eased the pain directly, although my head was 
lame for days. 

During my days of retention at “ Station R,” it 
was Tom who took me to walk, Tom who brought 
me food, and Tom who romped about the station 
yard with me in perfect good-comradeship. 

This did not signify punishment to me. It was 
a comfortable home, and I was happy. The officers 
showed me much kindness, and Tom and I soon 
became fast friends with the big fellow who knocked 
me down. I had somehow come to feel it was all a 
mistake on his part, and treasured no ill-will. 

26 


PUP 


But when my master came, I was led shame- 
facedly and reluctantly away at the end of a rope, 
and Tom was roughly ordered to go about his 
business. 

I could not understand why I should again be 
separated from the only one I loved, and in the 
weeks that followed I once more endured the 
loneliness and captivity of my puppy days, ren- 
dered doubly hard, because even the heretofore 
brief glimpses of Tom were denied me, and because 
the liberty which I had enjoyed unfitted me to bear 
imprisonment with any resignation. 

My master brought me bits of bread occasionally, 
and water, and once in a while led me out for some 
exercise of an evening, but I became intimate 
once more with pangs of hunger, and my limbs, 
now so strong and muscular, ached for want of 
their customary exercise. 

I naturally missed my friends of the street: the 
kindly Newfoundland, the stately St. Bernard, with 
whom I had strolled about in proud and happy 
companionship. Together we had tramped through 
parks and boulevards on pleasure bent, or looking 
for a greyhound with whom I might establish a 
possible kinship. I still cherished the hope of find- 
ing one of my kind. Other St. Bernards and num- 
berless Newfoundlands claimed kindred with my 
chosen friends, but, thus far, I walked alone in 
my exalted accident of birth. 


27 


PUP 


CHAPTER IV. 

NEW MASTERS 

It is but a sad tale I have thus far had to tell, 
and it must have touched the hearts of all who, to 
any degree, realize that dogs feel, think, under- 
stand, and act with almost human intelligence. 

The brief glimpses of happiness I had up to this 
time enjoyed do not serve to make my story any 
more cheerful than they made those long, dreary 
months ; but, with a few moments’ longer lingering 
over that wretched past, I shall bring you into my 
happier environment; for, in a most unexpected 
moment, life opened a new prospect before me, 
and I am glad to look back through the vista of 
those sad months I have been describing to you as 
upon an ugly incident, possibly interesting to those 
that know me and love me now, and to those who 
love justice and humanity toward all created life, 
whether man or beast. 

Now I am happy where once I was wretched, — • 
and faithful unto death to those who have be- 
friended me and made all this beautiful life I am 

28 


PUP 


living possible to a poor, vagrant dog of the city 
streets. 

At the close of one of those long, lonely days that 
it gives me bad dreams, even now, to look back 
upon, my master came in cursing, in the frenzy of 
drink-shaken nerves, and dealt me an ugly blow 
over the haunches. 

’Tis true I was howling distractingly, — howling 
for liberty; you see, I, also, had now passed the 
yapping period, and could give as dignified a bow- 
wow as my Newfoundland friend'. Tingling from 
the blow, I slunk sullen and silent into my corner. 

Throwing his hat savagely upon the table, master 
struck a light and, kicking one chair viciously into 
the middle of the room, threw himself heavily into 
the other and opened a newspaper. For a long 
time he studied it very intently. 

I think he must have lost another position, for 
during several days he had been drunk most of 
the time; he had lain sleeping heavily upon his 
bed over in the corner, and only to-day had he been 
out for any considerable time. 

At last he seemed to find something for which 
he had been searching, and, throwing aside the 
paper, he put on his hat, brushed himself up as well 
as he could, apparently, and, coming over to me 
with my leash in his hand, said, as he snapped the 
hook into the ring of my collar : “ Come on, pup, 
we’ll try there ! ” 

I knew only that we were to take a walk, and 

29 


PUP 


glad I was of a chance to stretch my legs and get 
a whiff of fresh air. 

I was not overanxious to meet my old friends, in 
leash as I was, — it was humiliating to a full- 
grown, dignified greyhound to be led about at the 
end of a tether like a little poodle; nor could I 
walk very proudly beside such a master. I think we 
did not present a very self-confident air to people 
we met. 

We had started upon a long walk, it appeared, 
during which master stopped frequently to get 
a drink in those places where men gather to spend 
their evenings and money. After several of these 
calls he began to walk unsteadily, and jerked pain- 
fully at my leash. I could hardly keep my place 
beside him, and my throat was beginning to feel 
sore from the continual tugging at my collar. I 
looked up into his face and whined to him to stop 
until he could walk better, but he only cursed and 
staggered on, until we came to a neat driveway 
winding through a deep lawn to a gentleman’s 
stable. 

I looked about, and, much to my joy and surprise, 
recognized Tom’s home. 

I wondered what it all meant; what was master 
doing at Tom’s house, and with me, too, when he 
would not allow Tom to visit my yard if he were 
at home? 

With unsteady steps master staggered up the 
driveway and entered the stable. Some time was 

30 


PUP 


spent in talking with the groom and in waiting; 
then Mr. Ross, Tom’s father, came out to see my 
master. 

I soon discovered from the conversation that he 
was asking for a position as coachman, and that 
Tom’s father refused to employ him. Angry and 
disappointed, in drunken spleen he gave me such 
a brutal kick in the ribs that I crept whimpering 
to Mr. Ross, and, licking his hand, looked up into 
his face imploring protection. 

Outraged at such inhuman treatment of an un- 
offending dog, and touched by my wistful appeal, 
Mr. Ross offered to buy me ; something was said 
to my old master about five dollars and costing too 
much to feed me, and then, too drunk to know 
much of anything except that five dollars would 
buy more drink, he took the money and reeled out 
of the stable, leaving me the joyful property of 
Mr. Ross. It was thus I came into my birthright 
— the right of every living creature: liberty and 
happiness. 

During my few weeks of vagrancy about the city 
I had acquired a good understanding of the lan- 
guage of men, as you know we greyhounds are a 
breed of rare intelligence, and thus I was able to 
comprehend much of the conversation that passed 
between the groom and Tom’s father after my hated 
old master had staggered away; and living among 
cultured people since has so increased my store 
of learning that henceforth I shall be able to relate 

31 


PUP 


more clearly the details of my life, as events crowded 
thickly and fast into it. 

“ A good job, sir ! ” said groom, respectfully, 
touching his hat to my new master. 

“ Thank you, John,” replied Mr. Ross. “ I was 
afraid you boys might object; dogs are often a 
great nuisance about a stable and horses; but I 
couldn’t put up with that fellow’s brutality — it 
made my blood boil ! ” 

“ A fine dog, sir 1 ” John responded, cordially. 
" He’ll look well following the trap, sir.” 

Master laughed and said something about "eye 
for style ” and “ fine points ” and “ bargain ” and 
"new collar” and "bath” (at this I dropped my 
tail) and "trouble to John,” at which John again 
touched his hat and replied very cheerfully: 

"All right, sir; no trouble, sir!” and Mr. Ross 
turned to go. 

I stood looking wistfully into groom’s face. I 
wanted to kiss his hand for the nice way in which 
he accepted the care of a friendless dog, but I 
refrained, lest I might annoy him by too great 
familiarity at first. I would wait until I became 
a little better acquainted; meantime, I heard Mr. 
Ross call : " Here, Tom, come here ! Here’s a dog 
for you; come out and see him! He’s here with 
John!” 

I had pricked up my ears at Mr. Ross’s call. The 
next moment Tom, my beloved old playfellow, stood 
in the door, and, with a wild leap, my leash dang- 

32 


PUP 


ling after me, I sprang upon him as he held out 
his arms to me with a glad shout. 

“ Pup ! Pup ! You dear old pup ! ” and we were 
both hugging and kissing and acting like two crazy 
creatures in our overmastering gladness of meeting. 

“ Dad ! Dad ! ” cried Tom, excitedly. “ It’s 
Greyhound — it’s the dear old pup ! Don’t you 
remember him ? ” 

And although Tom might have been mistaken, 
since dogs of a breed frequently resemble one an- 
other so closely, yet, because I knew Tom, because 
there was no hesitancy on my part, — animal in- 
stinct was too unerring, — Mr. Ross and John knew 
I was Tom’s old playfellow, the much-talked-about 
greyhound pup. 

Before anything else, the dreaded bath had to 
be endured ; but I am glad to remember how docile 
I was, and how patiently I stood for the soaping 
and scrubbing and rubbing down, and how good- 
naturedly John rolled up his sleeves and patted me 
and called me “ nice fellow,” to assure me I was 
in friendly hands, and that, if the process were dis- 
agreeable, I was not going to be harmed when he 
and Tom had me in hand. 

I began to love John that very moment, and the 
many walks and drives and frolics and rainy days 
spent with him in his cosy room above the stable, 
since that memorable day, have made our friendship 
as strong and lasting, almost, as that between Tom 
and myself. 

33 


PUP 


As for John, his love for me was more dignified, 
perhaps, as befitted a grown-up man and groom 
of fine stables, but he spoke proudly of me to his 
cronies : “ Fine greyhound, boys ! Will have a 

record some day ! ” in much the same tone in 
which he was accustomed to exploit the fine horses 
or latest up-to-date trap of his employer. 

Besides the joy of finding myself once more with 
Tom, the first day was filled with the excitement 
of exploring the gardens, the stable, and the home. 

The grounds were all so grassy and soft, and the 
shrubs and trees so plentiful, I wondered how I 
could choose where to take my naps, and I looked 
about, hoping to find Mopsy there, too. 

John’s bedroom over the stable was much finer 
than anything I had ever seen, with its clean bed 
and sweet-smelling rugs and big, comfortable-look- 
ing chairs, in which I often stole a rest, myself, in 
the days that followed. 

I made the acquaintance, too, that day of Prince, 
the family horse. John was grooming him as I 
came in from a romp with Tom. 

“ Look out, Master Tom ! ” said John, as Prince 
threw up his head, a bit startled at seeing me; but 
the caution was unnecessary, for I stood quite still. 
Prince looked me over a moment, and presently 
put out his nose and sniffed about me, while I 
rubbed my nose very gently against his by way of 
assurance; and thus we sealed our compact of 
friendship. Many a night since have I slept under 

34 


PUP 


his manger, and I have followed him miles and 
miles in his daily rounds with my mistress, or with 
Tom mounted upon his glossy back, both horse and 
dog proud and happy, for both loved Tom. 


35 


PUP 


CHAPTER V. 

INCIDENTS AND ACCIDENTS 

Everybody seemed to be friendly here, — no oaths 
nor blows, — plenty of food everywhere for all, and 
comforts such as in my rosiest expectations I had 
never anticipated. 

I must not overlook Tom’s room in my story, 
although it was days before I caught a glimpse 
of that mysterious and wonderful place. 

Tom was just out of knickerbockers. When I 
looked at his legs, it was not at the legs of the 
old Tom that used to come to my alley, but at 
those of a man — that is how I remember. And 
Tom was captain at the big playground where boys 
wear such funny uniforms and kick a ball here, 
there, and everywhere, and tumble helter-skelter 
over each other, until it would puzzle even a dog 
to nose out his own master. 

And Tom was a great sprinter, too, and took 
high hurdles more speedily than any of his class. 
I remember these things so well because I am 
something of a runner myself, and often raced neck 

36 


PUP 


and knee with the boys around the smooth track all 
through the fine fall weather. 

But to return to Tom’s room, which for the 
moment I have forgotten. It was hung with such 
a bewildering confusion of things, I could think 
of nothing when I first entered it save one of 
the junk-shops down near my old alley; however, 
I was soon able to distinguish a difference, as Tom 
would first take down shoes with long spikes in 
the soles to put on for running, or a queer-looking 
hat that completely covered his head and ears 
and had a long thing dangling from it to pull 
over his nose. This, I soon discovered, was used 
when he and boys played with the big ball that 
lay over in the corner between two long, ugly- 
looking clubs that Tom swung round and about 
his head every night before going to bed. 

A fish-net was festooned around the upper part 
of the room, and stuck full of pictures of boys and 
girls, and boats, and dogs, and I can’t tell what 
besides. Cards and chessmen and fishing-rods and 
guns and flags and skates and books, bats, balls, 
and hockey-sticks, and goodness knows what other 
“jim cracks,” were all about the room. It made 
me crazy to look at it; but I let things alone, now 
that I had arrived at the age of steady doghood, 
and kept clear of trouble until a day when one of 
Tom’s chums put on a big, clumsy-looking pair of 
mittens that hung beside the dressing-table, and 
began to punch Tom in the face. 

37 


PUP 


How could I know such an attack was play? 

I couldn’t stand by and see Tom pounded like 
that, and I sprang to the rescue. There was a 
pretty lively scuffle for a minute, but when Tom 
caught me by the collar, and scolded and patted 
and made me understand that they were only box- 
ing a bit in friendly sport, I felt rather sheepish. 
I was disgusted to think they did not explain to 
me before that it was to be fun and not fight; for 
I am supposed to protect Tom if any one attempts 
to harm him when I am around, and a proud- 
spirited dog doesn’t like to make such humiliating 
mistakes. 

Tom remembered to do better the day they put 
on those muzzles that hung on the wall between the 
long, swordlike things he and Ned prodded each 
other with : “ masks ” and “ foils ” they called them, 
but those cagelike things are “ muzzles ” when 
dogs and horses wear them. 

Nobody but a boy could guess at half the things 
that room of Tom’s held. It was not until after 
this first visit that Tom had my bed laid in one 
corner of this enchanted chamber, — or one of 
my beds, more correctly speaking, for I slept quite 
as frequently in John’s room or under Prince’s 
clean, sweet manger. From this soft blanket in 
the corner I used to crawl in the early morning 
before Tom awoke and walk softly up to his bed 
and rub his face with my nose; half-aroused, he 
would put his arm over me, and, encouraged by 

38 


PUP 


the half-conscious caress, I crawled up beside him 
for another blissful nap. 

I soon learned where the various members of the 
family slept, and it became my morning custom 
to whine at each door at precisely six o’clock and 
get a cheery “ Good morning, pup ! ” from each 
one. Cook found no further use for her alarm- 
clock, I was so punctual. I wanted things stirring 
when I was awake, and no one seemed to be in 
the least ill-natured over it. Tom was a lazy rogue 
in the morning, and I had to do a deal of whining 
and coaxing to get him out of his warm bed ; but, 
once out, he was as wide awake as myself. 

My new collar was a beauty ! It was all of bright 
silver links, neither too broad nor too heavy for 
comfort, and it was decided that I must have a 
more dignified name than “ Pup ” engraven upon 
the plate, although “ Pup ” I was always called. 

One disquieting thing occurred only a few days 
after I went to live with Mr. Ross : my old master, 
the coachman, came to the stables and wanted me 
again; he was sober and evidently sorry he had 
sold me. I didn’t know the reason at that time, 
neither could Mr. Ross understand why he was so 
anxious to get me back, because he seemed to have 
no especial love for me and had certainly found 
it difficult to provide me with sufficient food. On 
the whole, I must have been an inconvenience. 
However, he seemed determined to possess me again. 
He offered to refund the money, and, upon being 

39 


PUP 


refused, grew angry, cursed, and swore he had been 
cheated and would have the dog if he had to steal 
me. I trembled when I saw him coming, and 
skulked under Prince’s manger where he couldn’t 
see me, but where I overheard much that was 
said. 

Mr. Ross told John and Richard, the new coach- 
man, to keep an eye on me when I went out with 
the carriage, and, if they saw the fellow prowling 
about, to let him know. As a matter of fact, he 
did skulk around for several days, until master 
spoke to a policeman, who ordered him to keep off 
and not annoy us any more. 

I often met my old friend Newfoundland, and 
he told me news of the dogs about town; but as 
yet he had not met another greyhound. I still 
wanted to find one of my kind, although very happy 
with Tom. Mopsy missed me, he said; he ran 
around frequently and crept through the pickets 
for a friendly call, as Mopsy had learned to love 
my friend as well as myself, and was a most amiable 
cat to well-behaved dogs. 

The dogs in my new neighbourhood I cared little 
about; they were mostly dainty, babyish creatures, 
carried around in arms or led about at the end 
of a tether, rigged up in ribbons and harness like 
a toy-window doll or some infant wheeled about in 
its perambulator. They were very much beneath the 
dignity of an English greyhound, who could stand 


40 


PUP 


with paws over his master’s shoulder and keep pace 
with Prince on the boulevards. 

Of course, all this is but details of my new life, 
— prosy, perhaps, and not an exciting adventure 
such as I had one day when strolling about the 
docks with Tom. 

As a matter of fact, I knew all about wharves, 
for I had prowled about them many times in my 
vagrant days, catching rats and looking for other 
amusement, although Tom didn’t know it, and was 
much surprised when the stevedores recognized me 
and called me to give them some sport. I under- 
stood at once what I was expected to do, and, after 
nosing about among bales and boxes a few minutes, 
I snapped up a huge rat and tossed him out upon 
the floor; soon I had several more of the ugly 
rodents laid out in a proud heap, and looked up 
laughing in my young master’s face. 

“ Good for you, Pup ! ” he cried, “ you’re a 
dandy ! ” 

Just then the captain of a big steamer that lay 
in dock came down the gangplank and began to 
talk with Tom and look at me and my dead game ; 
then he laughed and invited Tom aboard the boat. 

“ But my dog?” suggested Tom. 

“ Oh, bring him along,” said the captain ; and 
the conversation that followed I did not fully un- 
derstand, but I think it meant that I would find 
something on board to amuse me, also. 

We were taken all over the great boat; and I 

41 


P U P 

walked with dignified demeanour beside my master 
amidst all the elegance of saloons and staterooms. 
I saw my own handsome figure reflected from 
stately mirrors, and peered into dark and forbid- 
ding depths through hatches. 

The steward and cook gave us a friendly welcome 
to that mysterious quarter whence come all those 
savoury odours that tantalize the nostrils of a dog, 
however recently he may have eaten. I was in- 
vited inside the pantry, after cook had a good laugh 
over some story the captain told, and then Tom 
sang out, “ Rats, Pup ! ” Over I went into corners, 
among boxes, cans, and bags — and dear knows 
what ! — in a frantic scramble, and in about the 
next breath I flung a fat rat over my head to the 
floor at cook’s feet. 

At my hunt I went once more, and out came 
another, quite as unexpectedly. 

Captain and cook were mightily pleased, and 
Tom no less than they, for Tom had not yet become 
acquainted with this side of my character, and knew 
nothing of my prowess in the sporting field. He 
had doubtless seen me chase sparrows, as I so often 
did just for the fun of stirring them to flight, but 
nothing more ; now rats and cats — “ Wow-wow ! ” 
— I just pricked up my ears at the very mention 
of them! 

It remained for later events to prove my dexterity 
in the rabbit chase. 

I was patted and complimented over this famous 

42 


PUP 


exploit in cook’s pantry, and cook dropped a bit of 
juicy meat into my mouth, which I swallowed with 
smacking lips, thinking all the while what a fine 
fellow cook was and how well he understood what 
a dog likes. I resolved to come again very soon 
for more rats and — incidentally — for more meat. 

Two or three times during the week in which the 
steamer lay in dock I stole away for a brief visit, 
and found, not only rats and meat, but a warm 
welcome from the ship’s crew; so that one day, 
when I went and found the dock empty of all save 
surging green water, I turned homeward sad and 
disappointed, for my boat and my cook had sailed 
away. 

But during this first visit we had an adventure 
other than that with the rats and the steamboat, — 
an adventure that caused so much anxiety and 
trouble that we felt very grateful to have escaped 
with no more serious results than did happen. 

On leaving the wharf and passing a narrow alley 
near by, my old master suddenly sprang out and 
seized me by the collar. 

I was terribly frightened. Tom was quite a dis- 
tance ahead, as I had loitered to sniff about at this 
and that, hoping to find another rat poking his 
head out of some hole. I yelped with fear and 
pain, for the grasp at my collar was choking me, 
and I struggled violently to free myself from the 
cruel clutch. Tom heard my cries and reached us 
just as the fellow had dragged me some distance 

43 


PUP 


into the alley, where he was beating me unmer- 
cifully to make me go along with him. 

Tom saw my dangerous predicament at once, and, 
striking straight out from the shoulder, — quicker 
than a flash it came, — he gave the fellow such a 
blow in the jaw that he dropped, limp as the rats 
I had laid out a few minutes before. Oh, it was 
a very neat bit of work Tom did, I assure you! 

We might have gotten away without further 
trouble, only a policeman happened to be passing 
and saw the brief battle — or the result of it — and 
demanded an explanation. 

Tom told our story; admitted that he knocked 
the man down, not intending to injure him, but 
only to rescue his dog. However, as the fellow still 
lay insensible upon the pavement, the police called 
the patrol-wagon, and into it we all went, — Tom, 
myself, and the still unconscious old master of 
mine, — and were driven over to the station. 

“ Well, old Pup, this is the second time you and 
I have fallen into the hands of the police ! I won- 
der what dad will say to this scrape ! ” 

“ I guess you’re all right, boy. The fellow’s com- 
ing to, but I had to take you in and look it up a 
bit.” 

This was what appeared to me to be the con- 
versation that followed, judging from actions and 
some words of which I was able to comprehend the 
meaning. Then Tom said something about “tele- 
phone ” and “ Theodore Ross ” and “ office,” and 

44 


PUP 


presently after we arrived Mr. Ross came hurry- 
ing in. 

Of course, much that was said I could not un- 
derstand; but when we came out the policeman 
shook hands with Tom, felt of his arm, and laughed, 
while another officer locked the old master in a 
small room back of the office. We then got into 
the carriage and drove home to luncheon, greatly 
relieved that everything turned out so happily. 

I was praised for my prowess, — for Tom told 
his father and mother during luncheon about my 
rat-hunt, while I sat in dignified silence beside his 
chair, — and then I was pitied for the persecu- 
tion of which I seemed to be the unfortunate vic- 
tim. 

Tom hurried me off to the stables as soon as 
luncheon was over, to tell Richard and John — 
my other human foster-friends — of the exciting 
exploits of the morning, especially of my wonder- 
ful cleverness at rat-catching. 

I stood between Tom’s knees, while he sat upon 
a bench in the harness-room, describing the way 
in which I went over things and snapped up my 
game. They all laughed so hilariously that I looked 
up in their faces and laughed, too. Oh, yes, there 
is no disputing that, as a rat-catcher, the English 
greyhound has no equal in any dog of his size! 
I was surprised they should not have known it 
before, and I laughed in enjoyment of the fun it 
afforded them. 

45 


PUP 


Suddenly a thought appeared to strike John. He 
dropped the harness he was polishing, went across to 
the grain-room opposite Prince’s stall, and, unlock- 
ing the door, called to me. I jumped up from 
where I lay crouched between Tom’s knees and 
ran over to see what he wanted. Tom and Richard 
followed. He threw the door wide open, and, point- 
ing over toward the corn and oat bins, hissed out, 
sharply, “ Rats-s-s-s ! ” 

Like a streak I leaped past him into the room; 
I thrust my long nose behind bags and overturned 
empty boxes in my frantic scramble to show my 
skill. Finally I succeeded in nosing out a poor, 
trembling little mouse, which I snapped up, then 
tossed into the air, and, catching it in my mouth 
as it came down, laid it triumphantly at John’s 
feet. 

“Wasn’t that a neat trick?” I laughed, standing 
back and surveying my game with much satis- 
faction. 

“Well done, Pup!” cried John, admiringly, and 
patted me in generous approval. 

I had free access to the grain-room henceforth; 
and, whenever the boys wanted any exciting fun, 
they had only to open the grain-room door and call, 
“ Rats, Pup ! ” and I made things lively for a 
time. All agreed that I was better than a cat to 
keep mice from the oat-bin. 


46 


PUP 


CHAPTER VI. 

HEROES OF THE GRIDIRON 

I soon learned to associate the rough and tum- 
ble sport of the boys in the park and their queer 
clothes with the word “ football,” so often repeated 
amongst them. 

Being in most ways so correct in my behaviour, I 
was permitted free range of the house, and thus 
it happened I frequently lay on a rug in the din- 
ing-room during luncheon or dinner hours. One 
day I overheard Tom and his father and mother 
discussing football ; I understood from their serious 
tones that master and mistress entertained grave 
anxieties for Tom, at which he apparently laughed. 

I didn’t wonder at their uneasiness, for I had 
seen the boys at practice several times, and always 
trembled with fear when Tom lay underneath a 
pyramid of burly, struggling fellows, although Tom 
was as strong and robust as any of them, and 
absolutely fearless. 

But this day Tom spent more time than usual in 
adjusting straps and buckles and shin-guards, and 
examining straps and head-gear ; and I knew, when 

47 


PUP 


he was all dressed in that grotesque-looking suit, 
— just the colour of the spots on my own white 
coat, — with his leather helmet and football under 
his arm, and whistled to me to follow, that some- 
thing of more than ordinary importance was on 
foot that afternoon. I scented it somehow in the 
air. 

When we reached the park, Tom joined a squad 
of his fellows, all dressed like himself, and we en- 
tered the grounds together. 

I looked around in bewilderment, for there were 
throngs of people, — boys and girls, men and 
women, and many carriages. Heretofore, there had 
been only a handful of boys. 

A great shout went up as they caught sight 
of us. 

Over on the gridiron, which was roped off to 
keep back the crowd, was another squad of boys 
dressed much the same as Tom and his friends ; all 
wore gay-coloured sweaters and bushy hair. 

The throng surged up into the seats that rose 
high above both sides of the ball-ground. Flags 
were waving, a cloud of white handkerchiefs flut- 
tered, while now and then a horn tooted and a 
yell went up, all of which I could not understand; 
but I resolved to keep close to Tom. 

We passed a bevy of pretty girls, with bright 
ribbons tied in their jackets, who fluttered their 
handkerchiefs at the boys and admired me and 


48 


PUP 


called me “ Mascot.” I couldn’t understand this 
new name at all, nor do I to this day. 

Among the girls was one with whom Tom and I 
occasionally walked the “ Long Path ” on the Com- 
mon, — a bright, sunny-faced, laughing miss, that 
Tom seemed to like better than he did many of the 
other schoolgirls, — and as I passed her she tossed 
me a chocolate cream. I was surprised that Tom 
didn’t stop for some candy, too, but, as he was 
already far ahead, I was obliged to forego the 
tempting bonbons and hasten after him. 

Not only were the seats on the field crowded with 
people, but an eager throng pressed closely along 
the rope that guarded the gridiron, and policemen 
patrolled the inner field, as well as the grounds 
about. 

As we passed under the rope, Tom tossed his 
sweater upon the ground and ordered me to lie 
down and take care of it. I obeyed rather reluctantly, 
for I would much rather have gone with him and 
the rest of the boys as they went on to meet those 
already in the field. 

From where I lay I could see all that transpired, 
and, although the policeman permitted no one inside 
the rope but the football boys, I was allowed to 
remain where I could guard the sweater and watch 
Tom. 

There was a general stripping off of sweaters and 
adjusting of head-gear and practice of speeding 
and punting, and then came the “ kick-off,” of which 

49 


PUP 


I understood but little — just enough to know that 
it was the beginning of a game. 

Finally the two squads ranged up in parallel lines. 

Half-bent, with hands on knees, and faces anxious 
and strained, they stood in two fixed and silent 
rows ; then, “ io — 16 — 24 — 1 1 ! ” and a mad 
impact came. 

The people were hushed and breathless. I lost 
sight of Tom; and then, as two or three boys 
emerged from the wriggling heap that had changed 
so suddenly from column to mass at those magic 
numbers, a deafening shout went up from all over 
the grounds. 

A gang of boys on one side began to yell what 
sounded to me like: 

“ Yah, yah, yah ! 

Yah, yah, yah ! 

Boo, boo, boo, boo — 

Yah, yah, yah ! ” 

There didn’t seem to be much sense in what they 
yelled, but they put lots of vim into it, while from 
the other side came a chorus that seemed to me 
quite as meaningless as the first. 

I just said “ Bow-wow- wow ! ” and looked anx- 
iously for Tom. 

There was a lot of exciting running and tack- 
ling, and, at last, somebody held the ball securely 
to the ground, somewhere about the ten-yard 
line. 


50 


PUP 


One of the boys crawled out limping, and was 
carried off to one side and laid on the grass ; water 
was thrown into his face and his arms and legs 
worked up and down like a pump-handle, and his 
sides rubbed, until presently he rolled over and 
struggled to his feet. 

Tom came out all right; and once more they 
lined up. 

Again and again this performance was repeated, 
the crowd yelling, flags and handkerchiefs waving, 
and mad excitement or hushed expectancy every- 
where. 

At last, after much playing and many pauses in 
the game, a crisis seemed approaching; the contest 
was about to close. 

I had followed Tom all the while with my eyes 
as well as I could. It was with great difficulty I 
conquered my impulse to dash into the field. Trem- 
bling one moment and calm the next, I stood guard 
over the sweater, and relieved my overwrought feel- 
ings by an excited “ Bow-wow ! ” or a deep-drawn 
sigh. 

Tom seemed to be nowhere one moment, and then 
everywhere : in and out, tackling and running, 
guarding and dodging pursuit. 

At last the final line-up came. Tom had seized 
the ball, hurdled a prostrate and squirming pyramid 
of boys, and started off down the field before any 
one had time to collect his wits sufficiently to un- 
derstand what had happened. 

51 


PUP 


I could stand it no longer — I, who had always 
raced with Tom — I must be in it now, and with 
a few wild leaps I reached his side and was keeping 
mad pace with my master. 

How Tom shifted and dodged pursuers, — first to 
the right, then to the left, and always ahead and 
steadily gaining. 

The crowd howled like mad, and I raced, barking 
wildly, at his side. 

When very near the goal-line he stumbled and 
fell. 

In sheer desperation, still hugging the ball, he 
rolled over and over on the ground, hoping yet to 
cross the line before they could drop upon him. 
An instant seemed like an hour, and then the drop 
came; within a few inches of victory, one who 
had pursued him heroically down the length of 
the field plunged upon his back, and a fierce fight 
for the ball began. Tom wriggled and twisted over 
the ground, trying to cover the few inches between 
him and the goal-line before time should be called, 
and at last succeeded, just as I, in frenzy of fear 
for Tom, seized the other fellow by the leg and 
growled savagely; fortunately, the thick padding 
saved his skin, and Tom, secure in his position, 
called me off. 

Tom had made a magnificent run and scored his 
victory. 

The crowd still howled and shouted : 


52 


PUP 


“Yah, yah, yah! 

Yah, yah, yah ! 

Tom Ross, Tom Ross — 

Yah, yah, yah ! ” 

The referee came up and announced the touch- 
down. 

“What’s the matter with Ross?” yelled a voice 
from the crowd. You see, I had so often heard 
this exclamation that I recognized it now. 

“ He’s all right ! ” shouted the boys. 

“ What’s the matter with the pup ? ” hallooed 
Tom, turning his face to the multitude of excited 
people, as he stood up, one hand hugging the ball 
and the other resting on my head. 

“ He's all right ! ” arose from all sides ; and, glad 
and shy, I crept closer to Tom’s side and rubbed 
my nose affectionately against his knee, while he 
reached down and patted me and said, laughing, 
“ Good for you, Pup ! ” 

After the excitement had somewhat subsided, all 
went down the field, where another chap stretched 
himself at full length upon his side, holding the ball 
far out and close to the ground. 

A great silence seemed all at once to have fallen 
upon everything; then, with a short run and a 
vigorous kick, Tom sent the ball mounting into 
the air and whizzing straight between the goal- 
posts over the pole. 

I somehow knew that Tom had kicked the goal 
and won the game for his team, and we walked 

53 


PUP 


together proudly down the field, heroes of the 
day. 

I went back to guard the sweater, while Tom 
shook hands with the fellows that crowded about 
him. 

The girls all came up and tied their ribbons into 
my collar, until I felt quite foolish; then the girl 
Tom liked put her arms about my neck and hugged 
me, and I tried to kiss her cheek. 

That night I slept with John in his stable bed- 
room, for Tom bathed himself so much in stuff that 
smelt like my old master’s breath when he was 
drunk that the air of his room was very offensive 
to me, besides recalling so many unpleasant mem- 
ories of the past. 


54 


PUP 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE BATTLE OF THE SWANS 

“ E-e-o-o-w ! ” I yawned and stretched out in 
the sun in the stable door. 

John was sprinkling the lawn and driveway 
with the hose; Richard had just changed his livery 
for a stable frock and led Prince into his stall. We 
had been out for a long morning drive, and I had 
raced my legs tired. It seemed good to get home 
and lie down in the sun and watch all the work 
going on and feel free from all exertion and re- 
sponsibility myself. 

The pigeons fluttered down from the cote over- 
head, and waddled and cooed contentedly, as I lay 
there and blinked at them ; they knew I was too 
comfortable and lazy just then to nose them to 
flight, although usually nothing gave me greater 
fun than a wild career through the flock when they 
were pecking at their daily dole of oats, — unless, 
perhaps, it were rats or sparrows. 

I knew that John was whistling softly — just loud 
enough to be sociable but not disturbing ; the leaves 
in the shrubbery rustled, and a few withered ones 

55 


PUP 


fell and were whirled over the gravel drive and 
lodged beside its turfy border. 

I noticed all this, and then I think I must have 
fallen asleep, for strange things were happening, 
like the illusions of nightmare. I was racing madly 
over rocks and fences, chasing an army of rats, 
while sparrows and cats and all sorts of horrid 
things were rushing in a pell-mell throng close at my 
heels. 

Just as a fierce, yellow cat, with green flame 
streaming from her eyes, and long, wicked-looking 
claws and humped back and bushy tail, was about 
to pounce upon me, I leaped to my feet wide awake. 

“ Yow-ow-wow-wow-WOW ! ” and I rushed 
yelping into the garden, followed by a great shout 
from the stable. 

“ This is no dream/’ I reasoned, as I looked at 
my drenched coat and shivered; I knew the cat 
must have been a dream, but all this water trickling 
from my sides was no illusion. 

I turned my head sullenly and saw John at the 
corner of the stable with the dripping hose in his 
hand, and Richard in the door, both laughing at 
me. 

I fail to see where there is anything to laugh at 
in being drenched in ice-cold water, particularly 
when one is having a comfortable nap; but they 
appeared to think it very funny. 

I was indignant and dropped my tail between 
my legs and sulked past them into Prince’s stall, 

56 


PUP 


and told him how badly I had been treated. He 
put his nose down to me and sniffed in sympathy; 
he was sure he wouldn’t like the hose turned on 
him, either. 

A greyhound abhors water — I wonder why ? I 
have to submit to weekly baths, or oftener, if occa- 
sion require; my toilet, like that of the carriages, 
depends greatly upon the weather, for I race through 
dust and mud alike, freely, and John and Richard 
insist upon my being as well-groomed as the horses. 

Neither do I make any fuss about it, although, 
as a matter of fact, I detest the whole operation; 
but I like to please my friends. Besides, I always 
feel fine after a good scrubbing and brushing. But 
turning the hose on a dog when he is asleep I 
think justifies resentment. ’Tis true, when I crawled 
out of the stall later, they patted me and tried to 
smooth over the offence, and I knew very well in 
my heart I should forgive them; but I kept my 
eye on the hose for a long time whenever John 
was using it, and was very careful where I took 
my naps. 

After luncheon, I started off to find Newfound- 
land. 

I would rather be off on a tramp with him while 
I felt so cross with John and Richard. 

I knew pretty well where to find Newfoundland, 
for he had no such fine home as mine, nor any 
Tom, or Richard and John to amuse him, so he 
was obliged to hang around town most of the time. 

57 


PUP 


The market-square seemed to be a favourite loafing- 
place for the slum dogs, and, although I considered 
St. Bernard and Newfoundland of a much higher 
order of intelligence and breeding than most of these 
waifs, yet they would gather there for companion- 
ship much oftener than I had any desire to do. 

Newfoundland had just emerged from one of 
their low street brawls when I trotted up, and half 
a dozen dogs of various sizes were yelping about. 

“ Having a scrap ? ” I asked. 

“ Just helping that little yellow whipper-snapper 
out of a nasty row,” he answered, shaking the dust 
and loose hairs from his jacket. “ He has a beastly, 
nagging little temper, and I don’t much blame the 
others for turning on him, but one can’t stand by 
and see a chap torn all to pieces, even if he is a 
nuisance! Where are you off to?” 

“ Oh, anywhere for a walk ! ” I answered. “ Come 
on, let’s get out of this snarl ! ” 

We left the yellow pup licking himself and whin- 
ing over his bites and bruises, and strolled out past 
the “ Frog Pond ” and over into the Fenway. 

“ See anything of the old master nowadays ? ” 
began Newfoundland, by way of conversation. 

“ Not since that tussle at the docks,” I replied. 

“ Why don’t you fight ? Make him afraid of you. 
I don’t believe he would show much courage in a 
free fight. With your jaws and teeth, you are 
foolish to crouch and whine and let a man beat 
you and drag you about by the collar ! ” 


58 


PUP 


“ I don't like to fight as long as there is any 
other way out of it,” I answered. 

“ But if you get carried off and shut up, you 
will lose the chance of even fighting your way out 
of it. Take my advice and show your grit! Let's 
go over to Jamaica Pond. I want a good bath and 
a swim; my coat is filled with dust and leaves 
through tumbling about in that dirty brawl.” 

I dropped down upon the grass while New- 
foundland plunged in for his swim. The water 
looked very smooth and glistening, and the trees 
hung over the farther banks and dropped their 
leaves into it, as the wind now and then shook the 
branches. I thought it would be fine sport to chase 
them over the water, if I only liked water. 

Over beyond the little boat-landing was a flock 
of swans sailing about, now and then stretching 
their long necks out to take a bit of food from the 
hand of a visitor on the bank or to seize it from 
the water, where it had been tossed to them. 

I remembered my fun with the pigeons and spar- 
rows, and wondered if I could get up courage to 
plunge in and stir these big birds up a bit. I 
laughed, thinking what fun it would be — all except 
the water. 

Meantime, Newfoundland was splashing about, 
apparently having the time of his life. A young 
chap had come along and was throwing sticks as 
far out as he could throw them for Newfoundland 
to swim after and bring ashore in his mouth. He 

59 


PUP 


would shake his thick, shaggy coat free of water 
and then plunge in again, as the stick went hur- 
tling over the bank far into the pond once more. 

“ Come on, old fellow, it’s no end of sport ! ” 
he barked out to me, as he shook himself and 
laughed and leaped about, asking for more play. 

“ No, thanks,” I replied, “ I am getting excite- 
ment enough in watching you. Just drive that 
flock of big birds up on land, and I’ll show you 
fun after my way ! ” But he couldn’t spare time 
from his own sport to drive a flock of swans out 
to meet a dog on dry land. All the time I was 
wishing they would come out, so I could show 
him and the lad how lively I could make it with 
birds, even if I didn’t take to water sports. 

Presently the stick went whistling over the pond 
and landed with a splash in the midst of the flock. 
Out went Newfoundland, paddling away for dear 
life, so eager for his prize that he didn’t seem to 
notice the long necks stretched hissing and threat- 
ening toward him. At last he saw the trouble 
he was so rashly venturing into, and turned to swim 
back ; but the swans were angry. Evidently they 
had no notion of sharing their playground or food 
with dogs, and intended to give Newfoundland a 
salutary warning against trespassing. 

Fast as Newfoundland swam, they followed faster, 
with scarcely any perceptible effort. 

I was watching the chase with much interest. 

When opposite the bank where I lay, Newfound- 

60 


PUP 


land turned and paddled desperately toward the 
shore, and struggled out dripping and gasping; 
he was so scared by their angry cries that he stopped 
to give himself only one shake and then fled, with- 
out a good-bye bow-wow to me, just as the swans 
gained the shore. 

I was watching Newfoundland in his ignominious 
flight and indulging in a good laugh at his expense, 
without noticing his pursuers, when suddenly I was 
aware that a terrific cloud of something had fallen 
upon me; I jumped to my feet yelping. Great, fan- 
like wings beat about my head ; horrid, long necks 
struck out and fierce beaks pecked at me, and I, 
too, fled the enemy. 

I shall never attempt fun with a flock of swans, 
even if a good opportunity offer on my own fight- 
ing-ground. I believe with men that “ discretion is 
the better part of valour.” 

I saw no more of Newfoundland that day. 
Bruised and sore from the conflict, I went shame- 
facedly home and slunk into the stable with a very 
crestfallen air. I felt as if everybody knew how 
ridiculous I had been made to appear for a second 
time that day, and I went off by myself to brood 
over my injuries to body and mind. 


61 


PUP 


CHAPTER VIII. 

MY SHIP COMES IN 

Unless one is hungry or wants a particularly 
soft place in which to take a nap, a dog generally 
finds more to amuse him out-of-doors and about 
stables than in the house, and it is doubtful if I 
would have taken much interest in the home, had it 
not been for Tom’s bedroom, Mistress’s parlour, with 
its soft carpets and springy couches, and cook’s 
pantry. 

Despite soft carpets and enticing couches, there 
was in the parlour that which made me miserable 
whenever I attempted to spend an evening with 
the family. It was Mistress’s piano and Tom’s 
violin. 

I could not endure them ; my nerves could stand 
anything except the torturing noises that came from 
somewhere inside of them. I whined for Tom to 
stop sawing at the violin; I looked imploringly 
at Mistress; and then, in despair, threw my head 
back and howled and wailed. It was really cruel- 
hearted of them to laugh so at my distress. I 
rubbed my nose piteously against Tom’s knee, but 

62 


PUP 


I couldn’t coax him to stop. Sore at heart, I 
slunk off to the kitchen and whined to be let out. 
John never had any such distracting things in his 
chamber, and I was glad enough to take refuge 
there, or even on my comfortable bed of straw 
under Prince’s manger, where I could sleep away 
my disappointment. 

There has been so much to tell about Tom and 
our adventures that I have had but little chance to 
speak of my mistress. 

I had become very much attached to her for 
various reasons. 

She could not romp with me as Tom did, nor 
tramp off to the wharves for a rat-hunt; but she 
was very gentle and loved me because I was in- 
telligent and faithful. I often went with her upon 
a drive, trotting beside her carriage, and was less 
inclined to race after birds than when with Tom. 

Perhaps a greyhound realizes the dignity of his 
position as companion to a lady; perhaps it was 
because she let Richard stop and pick me up, after 
I had run a mile or two, to ride on the seat with 
him or crouch upon the floor of the carriage at her 
feet. Either was delightful, for I could watch the 
fine teams prancing along the boulevards, with 
clanking chains and gay ladies, and pretty — if 
silly-looking — lap-dogs, with fluffy hair and bright 
ribbons. 

I held my head very erect on such occasions, 
trying to say by my air, “ Look at me ! How dig- 

63 


PUP 


nified it makes my mistress’s turnout appear to 
have a fine English greyhound as her companion 
and protector, and not a silly little toy-dog ! ” 

It became my duty to accompany her on her 
evening walks, if she went without master. I soon 
came to understand that she relied upon my sagac- 
ity and fidelity to protect her from any offensive 
persons that she might meet. 

At first I was inclined to race ahead to stretch 
my legs, and then back again to her side, as I 
did with Tom, but in her quiet, gentle voice she 
would say, “ Stay right here by me, Pup ; walk 
with me ! ” until I knew my place was by her side. 
We often walked in this fashion, with her hand 
resting lightly upon my head or her soft fingers 
clasped in my collar; I was so tall now she could 
easily do so. 

We had been walking thus one evening and were 
returning across the Public Garden. Some portions 
of our pathway lay through deep shadows, and 
these places were uncommonly lonely. I noticed 
that she held my collar with firmer grasp and 
slightly quickened her pace. Greatly to her alarm, 
as we were passing some thick shrubbery, an un- 
couth fellow stepped out from behind it, directly 
in front of us, and spoke very rudely to my mistress, 
at the same time making a grab at my collar. 

Even in the dim evening light I at once recog- 
nized my old master. Of course Mistress did not 
know him. 


64 


PUP 


I expected a battle, for I resolved to protect 
Mistress as well as myself. 

I had learned from sad experience that whining 
and struggling would avail nothing, and, remem- 
bering Newfoundland’s counsel, I gave an angry 
snarl and fixed my long teeth in the fellow’s hand. 
With a horrible yell of pain he kicked me in the 
ribs; I relaxed my hold an instant, the shock had 
staggered me so, and in that moment he turned 
and ran. 

My mistress was terribly alarmed, and, keeping 
me close at her side, we hastened home. 

She hugged me and cried hysterically over me, 
when we were once safely in the house, and since 
then has seemed so fond of me it is hard to decide 
which I love the better — Mistress, who is so affec- 
tionate and indulgent, or Tom, my rollicking play- 
fellow. I am equally devoted and loyal to both. 

We had all come to have a dread of this old 
master. He was beginning to appear uncomfortably 
often. 

Tom never liked it when I went rambling off 
about town alone, as I was in the habit of doing, 
for danger seemed to present itself in the most 
unexpected moments. 

I kept a careful lookout, however, and since the 
encounter with my persecutor in the Public Garden 
I resolved to follow Newfoundland’s advice in the 
future, and not permit myself to be dragged away 
without a battle. I knew now that there were 

65 


PUP 


occasions when a dog, as well as a man, is justified 
in making a desperate fight for his liberty. 

However, Newfoundland and I roamed about 
freely outside of the city and in it through its many 
alleyways in our frequent walks, without catch- 
ing a glimpse of the fellow for weeks, and at last 
I quite forgot my tormentor. 

Newfoundland had now become a constant and 
welcome visitor at the stables. He was such a 
thoroughly good fellow, I had taken him home 
with me after one of our morning rambles to show 
to John and Richard. 

I felt very proud of Newfoundland’s manners 
as he walked so gravely down the drive beside me, 
as if aware that this was an uncommon event in 
which great honour was being paid him, and he 
seemed to feel a desire to comport himself with 
more than customary dignity. 

I presented him as gracefully as a greyhound 
could do to my old friends : I looked up at Richard 
and laughed and wagged my tail, and looked at 
Newfoundland ; then rubbed my nose softly against 
John’s knee, until they both laughed and patted my 
companion, and Richard said, “Hello, Jack! Are 
you Pup’s chum ? ” By the way, his name wasn’t 
“ Jack ” at all ; he never appeared to have any 
name that I could discover, — but Richard had a 
way of calling every stray dog “Jack,” which I 
presume was quite as well. 

Newfoundland acknowledged their friendly re- 

66 




NEWFOUNDLAND 


HI 




PUP 


ception with a laugh and modest wag of the tail, 
and then we trotted off together to inspect the prem- 
ises. 

My friend looked rather sorry when night came 
and the door was locked upon him, and he needs 
must turn away to his own poor, uncomfortable 
home down in the old alley. I barked good night 
to him from behind the closed door, and told him 
how sorry I felt that I could not invite him to stay, 
but that master didn’t allow strange dogs around 
at night, even if they were my friends. I then 
crept under Prince’s manger, and John and Richard 
were still talking about my chum when I fell asleep. 

Newfoundland came again and again — always 
welcome, always decent and good-tempered. Prince 
soon learned to love him, and the two rubbed noses, 
quite as friendly as John and Richard could desire, 
although he was not allowed in the stall with me 
for some reason. 

We romped together in the grassy garden, and 
cook always threw out an extra bone for my friend ; 
and thus our delightful companionship continued, 
until it transpired one day that a kennel was brought 
to the stable garden, and henceforth Newfoundland 
and I became inseparable companions under the 
same friendly shelter. I don’t know whether 
Richard paid five dollars, but, through some sort 
of bargaining, Newfoundland had become Richard’s 
own property, and Mr. Ross seemed to take as 


67 


PUP 


much pride in my shaggy friend as Richard did 
in me. 

Never once in all this time had I forgotten my 
cook and my ship. 

Many a day I stood at the empty dock and 
anxiously scanned the great boats on either side, 
with the vain hope of seeing the welcome figure 
of my captain pacing some deck or coming down 
the gangplank; but, alas! there were but strange, 
unwelcoming faces, and I turned heavy-hearted 
away, to drown my disappointment in a rat-hunt. 

Sometimes my dock held a strange vessel, and 
an officer once gruffly bade me “ Get out ! ” when I 
ventured to go aboard in search of cook. All cap- 
tains were not alike, either, and again I turned 
disappointedly homeward. Would nothing ever 
come to my dock again but that dark, restless 
water and those unfriendly ships? It seemed a 
very long time to me since my boat had sailed 
away. 

But at last there came a day when the great, 
yawning dock was filled, and the green waters 
lapped the sides of my very own boat. Not that 
I recognized it at first. Many people were going 
on board and trunks were heaped high on either 
side of the gangway and stretched in confused num- 
bers far back upon the shed floor, while my old 
friends, the stevedores, were rushing and shouting 
among the chaos of freight and people like a gang 
of boys in a city schoolyard. 


68 


PUP 


Everything was helter-skelter, and I was jostled 
about until I knew not where to stand to keep 
from under the feet of the throng or to escape 
being run down by the luggage-trucks. I was 
greatly interested in all this unusual bustle, and 
quite forgot about the rats I had come to hunt. 

At last every one appeared to have gone on board, 
and the gangway was empty. I stood looking up 
the narrow bridge, wondering if it were safe for 
me to follow the crowd and see what was going on ; 
when, to my surprise and delight, I beheld my 
captain coming toward me. With a bound I sprang 
to his shoulders, nearly overturning him, and leaped 
and barked excitedly in my gladness at finding my 
friend once more. 

“Hello, Greyhound, this you again ?” he cried, 
patting me and laughing. “ Hello, old fellow ! ” 

I kissed his hand and wiggled and capered as 
frolicsomely and giddily as a dog of my huge 
bulk could possibly do, to express my welcome, then 
gazed wistfully up the gangplank, whined, and 
looked up into his face. 

“ May I go ? ” my actions said. 

Motioning me toward the boat with a wave of 
the hand, “ All right, go ahead, Greyhound ! ” he 
answered, cheerily, and, with a bound up the narrow 
passageway, I leaped to the deck and raced wildly 
down over stairs, through throngs of people, to 
my old haunts, and found my cook, — the same 
fat, jolly fellow I had frolicked with weeks before 

69 


PUP 


and who had tossed me such delicious bones in re- 
turn for the rats I hunted from the ship’s pantry. 

Our meeting was no less effusive than that be- 
tween the captain and me, and, after the first trans- 
ports of welcome had subsided, I whined intelli- 
gently at the door of the storeroom. Cook laughed 
to find how well I remembered the sport of weeks 
ago. 

I succeeded in nosing out one wicked-looking old 
fellow, and, as cook appeared to be too busy to 
amuse me just then, I started out to investigate the 
various quarters of the boat by myself. 

I wanted to go through the saloons and look at 
myself in the big mirrors again, but there appeared 
to be so many people I felt sure I couldn’t get 
about comfortably, and, in truth, was a bit afraid; 
so I went farther below. I got a “ hello ” every 
now and then from some one as I strolled around, 
but they were all strangers and took little notice 
of me. 

I cannot describe the things about the boat very 
accurately, as there was little that was familiar. 
The saloon and the cook’s quarters were all that 
was not strange ; but I found low ceilings and 
more of the same dark holes I had peered into on 
my previous visits, and places then empty were now 
piled high with mountains of baggage and freight. 
I prowled about a long time, interested in this 
extraordinary building, this boat of mine, — so un- 
like a house, so unlike my stable. 


70 


PUP 


At last I found a door ajar that led into a pretty 
bedchamber. There was a comfortable, deep chair, 
a bed, — not so large as Tom’s, — and a soft 
couch, with the sunlight streaming in upon it 
through a tiny window near the ceiling. 

“ Here,” thought I, “ is a good place for a nap 
while cook is busy ; ” and I curled up on the couch, 
with my head on some gay pillows, and forgot all 
about Newfoundland, whom I had left hanging 
around the dock outside. 

I was pretty tired, for the excitement of meeting 
old friends so unexpectedly had quite flustered me, 
and I felt the need of sleep to restore my nerves. 


71 


PUP 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE "STOWAWAY" 

I have no means of knowing how long I slept; 
but the sunshine had gone from the little window, 
and my rest was disturbed by a strange sensation 
of motion, and the heavy throbbing and labouring 
of something throughout the ship. I crawled off 
the couch, and things did not appear steady under 
my feet. I wondered if I were ill; if the bone 
cook gave me had made me feel so queer and walk 
so unsteadily. 

I crept cautiously out of the little room and 
looked about me. I could discover nothing that 
appeared different from what had been when I 
lay down for my nap, but decided I would go out 
on the wharf and hunt up Newfoundland and go 
home, as I thought I could not be very well. I 
seemed to walk as my old master walked when he 
had been drinking from the bottle, although I knew 
very well I had drunk from no bottle. 

I glanced into the saloons as I passed them on 
my way to the deck. In one were many hand- 
somely dressed ladies and gentlemen at table, eat- 

72 


PUP 


ing and drinking, while in another a number were 
sitting about reading or in conversation. But I 
felt only a passing interest in them, and they, appar- 
ently, took no notice of me. 

On deck I met a strange officer — not my cap- 
tain, he was in the dining-saloon; I saw him as 
I passed by, — but one who walked very proudly 
down the deck, holding his head very high, and 
who did not speak to me. I crept out and looked 
about me; I was bewildered. No gangplank — no 
dock — no other boats in sight — nothing but wide, 
wide waters in front of me. I ran around to the 
other side of the vessel, and the same terrifying 
sight met my eyes. I raced up to the bow of the 
boat, and then frantically back to the stern ; every- 
where the same dreary expanse of water! 

Where was I, and what had happened while I 
had been sleeping? 

I barked and yelped and whined ; I rushed about 
like mad. And, indeed, I was half-crazed by this 
alarming predicament in which I found myself. 

At last I bethought me of my captain ; he would 
befriend me and put things straight, I felt sure. 
So, with my head and tail dropped dejectedly, I 
made my way back to the dining-saloon and crept 
meekly in and rubbed my nose gently against his 
arm as he sat at the table. 

He started up with some loud words ; not curses, 
— oh, no, my captain never cursed, — but big- 
sounding words of surprise, and I felt that some- 

73 


PUP 


how I had displeased him, and dropped my head 
again and was slinking away so wobegone I think 
it touched his heart, for he called out, cheerily: 
“ Come here, Pup ! Come back here, old fellow ! ” 
and then said something to the ladies and gentle- 
men that I could not understand. I knew only that 
my heart gave a throb of joy at finding I still had 
a friend in my captain in my difficulty. I ran back 
and stuck my nose into his hand and rubbed my 
head against his knee in sheer gratitude. 

Both ladies and gentlemen about the table gath- 
ered around and paid me many compliments, and 
laughed and patted me and called me “ stowaway,” 
until I really began to feel much better. 

I whined, however, to go upon deck and be taken 
ashore. 

I couldn’t understand yet that this was what 
became of my ship when the dock was empty so 
long, and I did not know that all the ugly water 
I so hated was not ready at any moment to swallow 
me up. 

My captain took me on deck and tried to com- 
fort me in my distress and make me understand 
what had happened, but I could comprehend only 
that we were off on the cold, dark water, and that 
Newfoundland and Tom, and John and Richard, 
and dear old Prince, would wait and look for me, 
and I could not return. 

Cook’s bone had no relish for me that night; 


74 


PUP 


neither did the cry of “ Rats ! ” dispel the heavy 
weight at my heart. 

To add still further to my discomfort, the saloon 
held a piano. When, in my loneliness, I crept into 
the brilliantly lighted room that evening for a bit 
of human fellowship, I was greeted with the old, 
maddening chords again. I fled in discouragement 
to the refuge of silence and solitude — the little 
bedroom. 

I climbed up on the couch once more, but with 
many misgivings ; even there I did not feel secure 
from further grievances, for trouble met me at every 
turn. Somebody might deprive a forlorn dog of 
this last solace; and, with my nose between my 
paws, I watched the door anxiously for some time. 
However, sleep came to my relief, and trouble was 
forgotten in dreamless slumber. 

Later — I knew not when — a footstep and a 
voice aroused me, and I found my captain standing 
in the doorway, laughing good-naturedly over the 
discovery of an uninvited roommate. 

“ All right, Pup ; you’re welcome ! ” he assured 
me, cheerily, as he climbed into his bed, and, with 
a deep sigh of relief, I returned to my nap, which 
was sweeter from the conviction that I was not 
an unwelcome intruder. 

When morning broke I crept out and hunted 
up cook for my breakfast before going on deck. 

How I hated this ceaseless throbbing underneath 
me, and the rising and falling and rolling that 

75 


PUP 


pitched me so heavily against things from side to 
side, and made everything look ready to fall over 
upon me ! It kept me dodging in a most ridiculous 
way, until I found that, for some unaccountable 
reason, things never really left their places. 

But life still held some attractions while cook 
remained my friend, and a bone lay on the roasting- 
pan or rats invaded the pantry. 

On deck I found the same world of water about 
me. I paced back and forth and gazed longingly 
in the direction instinct told me was home and 
Tom. 

A sweet-faced woman and her little girl sat! in 
chairs not far away, wrapped in soft rugs, and I 
went over to them and laid my nose across the 
lady’s knee and begged for sympathy in my home- 
sickness. She patted me and stroked my coat, and 
the little girl came shyly up to make my acquaint- 
ance. 

I never had played with girls. I thought if I 
jumped up about her, as I did with Tom, I should 
push her over and frighten her; but I wondered 
if we couldn’t amuse each other in some way. She 
seemed to be alone, too, and so I nosed against her 
hand very softly and kissed her chin, and, although 
she hung back a bit, she laughed and put her little 
fingers into my collar and patted my back. 

I soon wondered why I had not found out before 
how nice little girls were, for we had great sport 
racing — or, more correctly speaking, wobbling — 

76 


PUP 


up and down the deck all day, and, as a result of 
this new friendship, I began to forget some of my 
heaviest trouble. 

If a dog be kept well fed and amused, life is 
robbed of many of its discomforts, and he will be 
reasonably happy. However, I was wary of the 
cabin. I never ventured into it without first making 
sure no one was at the piano ; but the company was 
very considerate of my feelings, so that most of 
the time, with the exception of evening, I could 
romp freely through its luxurious quarters with 
my little friend and admire myself at heart’s con- 
tent in the great mirrors. It didn’t hurt us to bump 
up against things or tumble over each other amongst 
the soft furniture of the ship’s great parlour. 

The captain seemed pleased at our friendship, 
and invited my little playmate to visit cook with 
me one day ; so, with one hand in the captain’s and 
the other at my collar, she came away with us to 
explore that domain of mysterious good things, for- 
bidden the most distinguished guest on board, but 
to which enchanted realm I held the “ open sesame ” 
by virtue of my prowess. 

Cook removed his big white apron to receive the 
dainty little miss from the cabin, and gave her a 
cake, also tossing a piece to me; then, in answer 
to something the captain asked of him, he threw 
open the storeroom door and sang out, “ Ra-a-ats ! ” 
and presently I laid a big fellow at the little girl’s 
feet. 

77 


PUP 


She jumped back and screamed a bit at the sight 
of the ugly creature, but captain took her by the 
hand and assured her that the thing was quite 
harmless now, at which she ventured to come nearer 
with him and look at the dead rat. I laughed, proud 
at the part I had played in entertaining our little 
visitor. 

And thus the days sped on, — how many, I could 
not tell, — in which I slept with my captain by 
night, romped with the little one by day, or looked 
wistfully over the water for a glimpse of the dear 
old dock and possibly Tom, who must be searching 
and grieving for me. 

I must not forget a sorry incident that happened 
at last, over which I felt such pity and solicitude 
that I forgot to scan the water for signs of home, 

— forgot all of my own troubles and spent hours 
in trying to comfort and amuse my little friend. 

In a heedless romp with me one morning, she 
stumbled and fell down the companionway all in 
a heap at the foot of the stairs. Several persons 
rushed forward to pick up the poor little bruised 
thing, and the ship’s surgeon came with bandages 
and bottles. The mother trembled as she looked at 
the still, white face and closed eyes, until at last 

— and it seemed a never-ending time — the surgeon 
said, cheerily : “All right, madam ! ” and the eyes 
slowly opened and looked into mine first of all, for 
I had crouched close to the mother’s side, and 
nobody had seemed to hinder me. 


78 


PUP 


A voice said, plaintively : “ Hello, doggie ! I 
fell, didn’t I? ” Then she put up a little hand and 
patted her mother’s cheek, and we all cried — mother 
and women and dog. 

When surgeon left her lying on the couch, she 
had a white cloth tied tightly about her head, and 
one little wrist was bandaged, and the old dis- 
agreeable smell, like the breath of my drunken 
master, was about everywhere; but, in spite of it, 
I would not be coaxed away. I whined to stay, 
and the little well hand clasped its fingers tightly 
in my collar. There was no appeal from her silent 
pleading, and I was allowed to remain beside my 
little playfellow. She took something from a spoon 
and then went to sleep, while I kept faithful and 
loving watch by her side. 

There soon came a morning when I awoke to 
find my captain gone from our bedroom; the tire- 
some throbbing of the engines was hushed; the 
boat was as steady under my feet when I crawled up 
on deck as the floor of my stable; and unusual 
excitement prevailed everywhere. 

There was a tumult of voices and the rushing of 
a multitude of people — so dense a crowd that I 
couldn’t see through it to discover what these un- 
accountable signs meant. 

I pressed through the throng until near the ship’s 
rail, when I caught a glimpse of something beyond 
that created the wildest commotion in my breast. 
I gave one tremendous spring, cleared the bulwarks, 

79 


PUP 


and landed in the midst of bales and boxes, but 
upon the solid flooring of a wharf. 

My old dock and home again ! 

I leaped and barked frantically, trying to tell 
everybody around of my overmastering joy that 
the unwilling voyage was ended at last, and I was 
at home once more. 

I saw my little companion brought down the 
gangplank in the arms of a big coachman, and, as 
she passed me, she made him stoop for her to say 
good-bye to her “ doggie.” She put the one well 
arm about my neck and cried a bit as I kissed 
her face; then she was put carefully into a car- 
riage and driven away. 

I felt sad for a minute, but I must find home and 
Tom, and dear old Newfoundland and Prince, and 
was obliged to put all thought of newer friends 
and partings from my mind. 

I began to look about to find my direction home. 

What had happened to my wharf? Everything 
was strange ! Even the stevedores bore a most un- 
familiar look, and not one remembered me any more. 
Surely something was wrong! 

I wandered out among vans and carriages to take 
the well-known way home; but even here I was 
baffled. I looked for the alley where my old master 
had pounced out upon me that memorable day, but 
no trace of it could I find, nor could I discover 
any but strange and unfamiliar scenes, hunt as I 
would all that weary, disheartening day. 


80 


PUP 


I was, indeed, a “ stranger in a strange land,” 
and late in the afternoon I crept disconsolately back 
to my ship, and, in my dumb, imploring way, asked 
my captain what had happened to the world that 
made everything so changed. 

He patted me and led me down to cook, where 
another strange thing transpired: I was tied by a 
rope to a post in cook’s kitchen and not allowed my 
freedom any more. Cook was as kind as ever. I 
got juicy bits of meat and succulent bones, and 
caught rats by way of diversion; but never any 
more of the old-time rambling at will. I was led 
out for exercise on shore at the end of my tether, 
and then tied up on my return, like any savage 
brute. The humiliation well-nigh broke my heart. 

Days passed in this forlorn way. 

Again I felt the throbbing of machinery and the 
swaying of the boat. My cord was unloosed, and 
once more I was free. 

Ah, yes, but it was a freedom limited by the 
bulwarks of the ship, not the wild, unrestrained 
liberty of miles of streets and acres of parks of the 
dear days so well remembered ! But I made no out- 
cry. I felt that to whine or to howl would avail 
me nothing, as I looked sadly over the green water 
that held me its unwilling and sorrowful prisoner 
once more. 

But, after weary waiting, another day came, when 
my ship swung gently against the piling of my own 
familiar dock, and, with his own hand, my captain 

81 


PUP 


led me up on deck, and, waving his cap to some 
one on shore, sang out to me : “Go it, Pup ! ” and 
again I cleared the ship's rail with a leap, and 
landed at the feet of Tom — my beloved Tom. 

Home once more ! 


82 


PUP 


CHAPTER X. 

ILL WINDS 

My legs felt cramped and stiff from the long 
weeks of comparative inactivity on shipboard, but 
now the blessed boon of liberty! 

The wide avenues of the suburbs, stretching out 
in immeasurable distances, the broad acres of the 
parkway, the great Blue Hill, rising unhindered 
skyward — all contributed their quota to the wild 
sense of freedom that filled my soul, and, fired by 
an irresistible impulse, I leaped away from New- 
foundland’s side, as we set out next day to visit 
some of the old haunts, and started on a mad and 
lonely race. 

I knew not why and cared not whither ; I realized 
only that I was free — free — free ; that the broad, 
solid earth was about me and lay underneath my 
feet. Here was no uncertain support ; all was firmly 
fixed and limited by neither metes nor bounds; no 
narrow confines of bulwarks and surging waters; 
no throbbing of tireless machinery; here was solid 
earth, interminable distances, and the great enginery 
of the world pulsed noiselessly. 

83 


PUP 


My lithe body stretched out in exultant bounds; 
I threw back my head and howled, as the air filled 
my great lungs and the blood surged swiftly and 
warm through my veins. On — on I sped — past 
rolling carriages — past trees and rocks and min- 
iature bridges — anywhere — anywhere — it mat- 
tered not, so long as I was free ! 

I raced as only a greyhound can race when his 
muscles and will are unfettered, and I checked my 
mad career only when the wearied muscles refused 
longer to obey the will. Then, panting and per- 
spiring, I dropped upon the ground underneath a 
sheltering bush and gazed about me. 

I had had my fill. I had expended the enormous 
accumulation of weeks of energy, and became once 
more the same dog, in his normal condition of body 
and mind. I was utterly wearied but supremely 
content, and the world seemed very peaceful and 
good to me. 

After a long rest, I arose and started for the city. 

I walked slowly, taking only a passive interest in 
things about me, undaunted by the thought of the 
long distance between me and home. 

There was no need now of haste. All of time 
was mine, and home was a certainty with the jour- 
ney accomplished ; and, when I crawled in, footsore 
and dusty, late in the afternoon, all I could say 
to Newfoundland in excuse of my wild career, as 
he looked at me in disgust, was : “ I couldn’t help 
it! ” 


84 


PUP 


My old restlessness was satisfied for a time. Home 
and Tom and Newfoundland seemed best of all 
earthly enjoyments to a greyhound who had sailed 
over seas with strangers and among unaccustomed 
scenes for long, miserable weeks. 

The following days passed uneventfully. I lay 
some hours each afternoon beside the warm stable 
stove, watching John and Richard busily groom- 
ing the horses or polishing the shining rings and 
chains of the harnesses. Sometimes they indulged 
in a friendly wrestle, or put on a pair of Tom’s old 
boxing-gloves and had a spirited bout. I never 
interfered, now that I understood there was no ill- 
will between them, although I failed to see what 
fun there could possibly be in standing up face to 
face, to punch and be punched in return. 

As I have before remarked, the ways of men seem 
strange sometimes ! 

Newfoundland was seldom in at these quiet home 
hours, and I enjoyed my old-time comradeship alone 
with Richard and John. John whistled at his work 
and talked to me of his plans : “ Now, Pup, we’ll 
sweep the stable ! ” or, “ Come on. Pup, we’ll feed 
Prince!” all of which confidence endeared John 
to me day by day. 

Many a bag of peanuts he shared with me, too, 
since he accidentally discovered my fondness for 
them months before. A dog likes dainty bits, if 
boys and girls only knew it. John understood it, 
and the frosted cake Mary, the cook, used to bring 

85 


PUP 


to him he slyly but generously divided with me, 
charging me not to tell. 

John liked Mary more than commonly well. I 
discovered it by accident — by two accidents, I 
should rather say, for, if John hadn’t accidentally got 
an ugly wound in his hand, — I never knew just 
how it happened, — Mary wouldn’t have come to 
the stable in the first place. But the doctor ordered 
her to bathe and bandage the lame hand frequently, 
and I suspect Mary’s kindness touched John’s heart, 
as kindness touches the heart of a greyhound. So, 
in the other accident of being around just at the 
decisive moment, I saw John put his arm about 
Mary and stroke her hair with his well hand, just 
as people do when they are particularly fond of me. 
After that, John and I got the frosted cake almost 
every day. 

Soon his hand was well again, and there was no 
further need of Mary coming to the stable ; how- 
ever, we went across to the kitchen very often of 
an evening, and Mary always had a nice bit of 
something for us there. 

But it was through no accident that I afterward 
saw John caress Mary. They never seemed to 
mind my presence, and Mary freely showed her 
fondness for John by patting his cheek when he 
stroked her hair. Sometimes I felt quite neglected ; 
then, again, Mary would put her arms about my 
neck and hug me very affectionately. I never quite 
understood why she should show such sudden affec- 

86 


PUP 


tion for me, for, although she was kind and good 
to feed me, she was never given to> hugging either 
cats or dogs. 

John seemed to whistle and sing more cheerily 
than usual these days, while Richard and New- 
foundland spent frequent lonely evenings at the 
stable. 

The weather had by this time set in cold, with 
now and then a white blanket of snow upon the 
ground ; that was another reason why I did not care 
to go out rambling around with Newfoundland as 
much as of old. His coat was shaggy and warm, 
while the hair on mine was so short it afforded me 
little protection from the chilling east winds and 
cutting frost. 

I went out each day for a short race, and, after 
the ponds were frozen solid, I once in a while went 
off with Tom. The football suit was laid away; 
I never saw it now; but, instead, the hockey-stick 
and skates came down from the walls of Tom’s 
bedroom, and, with sweater and warm gloves, he 
swung out of the walk, looking much handsomer 
than when in football gear. That, to my mind, re- 
sembled nothing so much as the grotesque garb of 
a diver that went down under my ship one day as 
she lay in dock. 

It was necessary to run and jump about pretty 
lively in order to keep warm those cold days when 
I went out to the ponds, and I found this difficult 
to do on the slippery ice with Tom; but I became 

87 


PUP 


so excited over hockey and the yelling of the boys 
that sometimes I forgot the precarious foothold of 
a dog, and rushed on to the ice with reckless leaps, 
only to slip and slide and fall with a thud. It was 
dreadfully humiliating to find I couldn’t keep my 
feet where all those boys could glide about so 
easily and securely; eventually, I gave it up and 
sat upon the bank and shivered. 

A dog finds it most discouraging to have trouble 
single him out for its especial mark, when he is 
behaving every way as becomes a well-bred grey- 
hound ; and so, when that roving hockey-ball made 
straight at me one day and struck with such a thud 
that I was knocked violently upon the ground, I 
howled in pain and anger. It was gross injustice, 
when I was a peaceable and contented looker-on! 
The ball struck me on the hip, and the pain was 
so intense I could hardly put my foot to the ground. 
I whined in my suffering. I attempted to walk, but 
it hurt me so much I looked up at Tom, who had 
come off the ice to attend to me, and asked piteously 
what I was to do about it. Dear old chum! He 
just picked me up in his strong young arms and 
put me on the platform of a car and took me home. 

To be sure, it was a chilly ride, but it was the 
best Tom could do, and I knew it and bore the 
cold patiently. By the time we reached home, I 
was able to limp up the carriage-way on three legs, 
by making a painful effort. John met us at the 
stable door and looked me over anxiously; then 

88 


PUP 


he threw one of Prince’s blankets near the stove 
for me to lie down upon, while he and Tom put 
some hot, wet baths upon the lame hip — some of 
that old, ill-smelling stuff that I detest so. 

I was cared for very tenderly until I could hobble 
about, and showed every symptom of a speedy re- 
covery; but there were many times during my 
confinement when the hours dragged tediously 
along. 

Newfoundland was off a good deal of the day, 
either with Richard or strolling around town, and 
proved to be rather fickle in his devotion to a sick 
comrade. Perhaps, if Newfoundland had not been 
tired out racing around town that stormy evening 
just before Christmas, and I could have walked 
upon four legs instead of three, the exciting events 
of that night would have ended in a somewhat 
different fashion — a fashion more to the credit of 
two big dogs, who were supposed to be watch and 
ward of the stables. I must tell you how near our 
reputations came to being wrecked. 

The lower part of the building was lighted by 
electricity, which John or Richard shut off at bed- 
time by pressing a button at the foot of the stairs. 
Over a bin in the grain-room was a low, broad 
window. Outside the grain-room, in a corner near 
the door, was our kennel, and, beside that, the 
blanket on which I had slept since I was hurt. 

As I said previously, the night was stormy, and 
the wind blew a fierce gale, while the branches of 

89 


PUP 


an overhanging elm kept up a restless and un- 
pleasant beating against the stable walls all the 
first part of the night. That, together with my 
aching hip, made it impossible for me to sleep except 
fitfully. 

Not so Newfoundland; he breathed heavily and 
with the regularity of a pendulum swing, undis- 
turbed by the swishing and rat-tat-ing of the twigs 
and branches against the outside. 

Prince was quiet, and a deep, guttural sound 
from above told me that sleep held every one in 
its kind embrace except one poor, sick, lonely dog. 
The wind and tossing limbs irritated me and made 
me long for daylight; the loneliness was heavy 
enough to make one see things and have creepy 
feelings. 

When, in the midst of all the noises I could 
locate and understand, there came another from the 
direction of the grain-room, I became more uneasy 
than before, and turned to Newfoundland and said, 
softly, “ Woof — wake up ! ” 

There was no response save the same regular 
breathing. 

“ Woof! ” I repeated, a little louder. “ Wake up, 
Newfoundland, I hear a strange noise! ” 

“What’s that?” said Newfoundland, only half- 
awake. “ Well, go to sleep. There are plenty of 
noises without your making any more ! ” and he 
snoozed off again. 

I was disgusted, and, more than all, so lonely. 

90 


PUP 


I resolved to crawl over into Prince’s stall and 
see if I couldn’t find better company there. After 
my repeated “ woofs,” the strange noise ceased ; 
but the tap-tapping of the elm-tree limbs kept on. 
Prince stuck his nose down and gave me a little 
rub of welcome as I hobbled in beside him. 

Presently, I heard that queer noise again, louder 
and nearer; something was at work on the grain- 
room door. Newfoundland ought to look out for it ; 
I was too ill to be on guard. But I plainly saw 
it would do no good to waken him again; he was 
too sleepy to care about anything. And the noise 
came again and again. 

The next moment I heard a low, deep, warning 
growl, and knew my comrade was on duty. 

A rustle of the straw in his kennel, — another 
growl, louder and more threatening than before, — 
and then I gave several quick, sharp alarms and 
crept out of the stall to see what was up. I heard 
John and Richard spring from their beds to the 
floor, and, at the same time, the sound of hurrying 
footsteps in the grain-room and a half-audible oath ; 
the next moment, the stable was flooded with light, 
and both Richard and John rushed past me to where 
Newfoundland was now barking furiously at the 
open window. 

No one could be seen. 

As soon as John could dress, he took a lantern 
and went outside. Ill as I was, I felt I must follow 
my friend, for I feared he would meet trouble. I 

91 


PUP 


had seen what no one else saw, as the light flashed 
on : the hurriedly retreating figure of my old master 
crawling back through the window by which he 
had stolen in. It seems that he had not once aban- 
doned his intention to steal me away from my 
friends. 

We found his footprints in the new-fallen snow 
outside, and traced them to and from the window 
and down the driveway, where the retreating ones 
had been made by leaps. 

I think no one suspected me to be the object of 
the thief’s visit, and, try as I would, I could not 
make them understand ; but, thenceforth, both 
Richard and John kept a revolver on their table 
and left the light turned on below. 

As for me, the old fear was revived, and I felt 
sure that some time, in some unguarded moment, 
I should fall into the evil clutches of my old master, 
although I could not understand why he should 
persist so steadfastly in his endeavours to get pos- 
session of me. 

After John and Richard had gone back to bed, 
I crept over to my blanket beside the kennel again 
to talk over the affair with Newfoundland. I knew 
neither of us would sleep much during the remainder 
of the night, for there appeared every possibility 
of the thief’s return. 

“ Newfoundland,” I said, “ although I shall never 
expose your negligence of to-night, you certainly 


92 


PUP 


have been very remiss in your duty to master ; you 
should have captured the fellow ! ” 

“ I know that, Greyhound, and I feel very much 
ashamed to think I have failed at the first oppor- 
tunity of showing what we Newfoundlands can do. 
Oh, if I had only crawled out when you first called 
me, I could have caught him! I could! I could! 
Now I’m disgraced ! ” and he whined remorsefully. 

“ No, no, chum, don’t take it so much to heart 
as that! No one knows it but myself, and I’ll not 
go back on a friend. Richard and John think we 
have done a fine job to-night, so let it pass at their 
estimate. Only, I would really be more alert in 
the future ! ” 

“ That sneaking little yellow cur is mostly re- 
sponsible for this, Greyhound. He led me such a 
tramp all over town to-day that I was completely 
tired out, or I wouldn’t have slept so soundly.” 

“ Come, come, Newfoundland, be honest! Don’t 
lay your faults upon the shoulders of that poor 
little yellow dog! Keep away from such low com- 
pany and you will avoid a good deal of trouble — 
you know that! Above all, don’t be a coward and 
blame somebody else for your shortcomings. Did 
you recognize the fellow, Newfoundland?” 

“ No, I was too busy trying to get at his legs to 
look into his face.” 

“ ’Twas that old master of mine down in the 
alley, Newfoundland, and he means mischief to me 
as sure as you live. John and Richard think he 

93 


PUP 


was after Prince or the other horses, but I tell you 
it is I he is after, and I’ve got to watch out sharper 
than ever, for there is surely trouble ahead for me. 
Newfoundland, you must keep your eyes open, too! 
You see, if we had caught the sneak to-night, the 
police would have locked him up, and I’d be safe.” 

“I’m awfully sorry, Greyhound! I’ve made an 
awful mess of the whole thing! Such a stupid 
brute as I am! I wonder, Greyhound, that you 
speak to me again, ever ! ” 

Newfoundland looked very sorry and ashamed. 

“ Never mind, old chap ; I don’t always come 
up to scratch myself, and I guess it doesn’t pay to 
be too hard down on an old chum. It’s nearly 
daylight now — let’s get a snooze ! ” 

How I wished I could tell master next morning 
whose tracks they were when he and the officer 
were examining them so closely ! The storm had 
evidently ceased about the time the footprints were 
made, and they lay plainly to be seen in the damp 
snow; but I had no means of telling him what I 
knew about the affair, or that he need have no fear 
for the safety of his horses, as it was only poor, 
unoffending Greyhound the thief was after. 

I gradually began to walk about with Tom and 
Newfoundland, as my hip grew stronger. It 
seemed good to get out once more, after being 
housed for a whole week. In a few days, I was 
able to go down to the square, where our old 
acquaintances gathered around to listen to the thrill- 

94 


PUP 


ing experiences of the past two weeks. New- 
foundland made out such a heroic story of the 
attempted burglary that, for the time, we were both 
in a high state of exaltation, and swaggered quite 
recklessly in the midst of an adoring pack of dogs. 
My conscience smote me as we left all the praise 
and applause behind us and turned homeward. 
Newfoundland looked sheepish, too. The fact was, 
neither had been exactly honest. 

“ You’re a cute one, Newfoundland ! ” I laughed, 
nudging him slyly with my nose. “ You don’t tell 
how you took a nap while the fellow was getting 
in. Bow-wow-wow ! Ha-ha-ha ! ” 

“ Oh, shut up, Greyhound ! Don’t expect a chap 
to spoil a good story like that. Do you want a 
fellow made the laughing-stock of the town ? ” 
Newfoundland always liked to boast of what he 
did that night ; but what he failed to do was always 
a secret sore spot, and I never knew him to be 
remiss in his duty henceforward. 

In our quiet strolls up and down the avenue, 
during the weeks that followed, we met my old 
master frequently, in livery, driving a handsome 
span. He saw us, but I felt reasonably safe as long 
as he was on the carriage-box and I in the open 
street, where I could both run and fight; for to 
fight I was resolved, if molested again. 

Just to show my defiance and that I meant battle 
in earnest, I crept close at his heels one day, growl- 
ing savagely and showing a grim row of teeth. 

95 


PUP 


He was sneaking past the house at the time, and 
you should have seen him hurry, as if the evil 
one were after him. He remembered how those 
same teeth felt, when set fast in a man’s hand. I 
went back to the stable, laughing at the scare I’d 
given the coward; but at the same time I knew 
he was only awaiting a favourable opportunity to get 
me in his clutches. 


96 


PUP 


CHAPTER XI. 

NEW FRIENDS 

I went skating with Tom no more. I looked 
very disapprovingly at the hockey-stick whenever 
he took it out, and turned away in disgust to the 
stable. A dog does not care to expose himself 
to the same danger twice, and in imagination I 
could still hear the ping of the ball and feel the 
deadening impact as it struck my thigh. 

Newfoundland and I took a brisk run each day 
through the park, or strolled down-town. I went 
again with Tom one morning to the docks, for 
the first time since my return from the ocean voy- 
age; but, although my ship was there, and my 
cook and my captain were both delighted to see us 
again, nothing could induce me to go on board. I 
was not to be “caught napping ” again. Oh, no! 
I hunted out a few rats, just to see the stevedores 
laugh, and then turned gladly home again with 
Tom. 

Strolling up Huntington Avenue one afternoon, 
Newfoundland and I noticed an unusual activity 
before the main entrance of Exhibition Hall. Ex- 

97 


PUP 


press-wagons were drawn up, and men were busily 
employed carrying heavy crates up the long flight 
of steps to the vestibule, where they disappeared 
within, then, returning empty-handed, drove off. 
We could not make out from a distance what the 
cages contained, nor form any idea of what was 
going on at the hall. Quite an assemblage of va- 
grant dogs had congregated about the curbstone 
and steps, and became so inquisitive that every now 
and - then one was kicked yelping from under the 
expressmen’s feet. 

“ Come on, Newfoundland,” I said, after watch- 
ing them awhile, “we must keep out of the way 
of kicks, but let’s go down and see what is up 
for excitement. There seems to be something un- 
usual on foot to call around all these tramp dogs. 
We’ll take the opposite sidewalk and keep out of 
reach of trouble.” 

I knew something about the building, because 
Richard had driven Mistress over one night, beau- 
tifully dressed in evening gown and jewels and 
flowers, and, while he waited, I had cunningly crept 
up the steps to see what was inside. I could get 
only a peep at the big hall, but it showed a throng 
of handsomely dressed ladies and gentlemen prom- 
enading the floor, and there seemed to be food some- 
where around, judging from the odour about the 
corridors. As I stuck my nose inside the hall for 
that brief look, the air seemed heavy with a strange 
fragrance I did not like, a perfume I had observed 

98 


PUP 


at times about my mistress’s handkerchief, as she 
fluttered it about, — not that delicious smell of meats 
and steaming drinks I noticed in the corridors. 

I was about to lie down at the door, — I remem- 
ber very well, — thinking possibly some of the food 
might fall to my lot if I hung around, when sud- 
denly more of that horrible, shrieking, wailing music 
burst out from some concealment inside, and, with 
a disgusted howl, I skulked down over the steps, 
and Richard let me crawl inside the carriage to keep 
warm while we waited. 

But, as Newfoundland and I stood opposite watch- 
ing the operation going on that afternoon, we found 
those big cages contained dogs — dogs of all sorts ; 
and gentlemen passed in leading dogs, and many 
ladies, also, carrying their pets in their arms, or 
leading them toddling by a chain. However, the 
ladies were not handsomely gowned, — just simply 
dressed, as Mistress gowns herself for a drive or 
shopping. 

“ I wonder if there is food over there,” I asked 
of Newfoundland. 

“ What are all those dogs going in for, if there 
isn’t ? ” he replied. 

“ I’d like to go over and smell around a bit,” I 
suggested. 

“ But they kick out all sidewalk dogs,” New- 
foundland cautioned me. 

Then I would gladly have found myself in leash, 
if Tom had been there to lead me in. 

99 


PUP 


After a time the teams ceased coming, and no 
more men or women appeared to be entering ; only 
now and then one coming out and walking away, 
— but none accompanied by dogs. 

“ This is very strange ! ” said I to Newfound- 
land. “ Do you suppose there is a dog supper over 
there? Come on, I’m going over to smell ’round 
a bit — perhaps we can get inside, too.” 

No one hindered our entering the vestibule, but 
there we found heavy doors closed against us, and, 
although I nosed about them and looked all around, 
I could detect no evidence of food. 

“ No use hanging around here any longer,” I 
said. “ Come on, let’s go out for a race in the 
Fenway ! ” 

But I felt dissatisfied and curious all the evening 
and the next forenoon. 

“ Why,” thought I, “ are all those fine dogs over 
in Exhibition Hall and I not among them? I am 
called a fine dog, too! Why doesn’t Tom or Mis- 
tress lead me over, if anything is going on for high- 
bred dogs ? ” and I wondered if it were not likely 
that my relatives, if I had any greyhound relatives 
in the city, were also in the affair, whatever it 
might be. 

I became very restless thinking about it, and 
confided the result of my speculations to New- 
foundland after luncheon. 

“ Come on, Newfoundland, I am going over again 
to see if I can’t get inside or discover something 

100 


PUP 


more definite concerning all this gathering of dogs. 
I have a conviction that my parents and brothers 
may be in that building; perhaps something good 
to eat, besides/’ 

Newfoundland had too many brothers for my first 
suggestion to offer any attraction to him. He placed 
no value upon relatives himself, but when it came 
to a question of a good supper — that was another 
matter. He never neglected an opportunity to eat 
or to have a bit of adventure, provided he con- 
sidered it consistent with safety ; so we trotted away 
together, making friendly comments on this or that 
as we went along. 

Arriving at the big building, we found the aspect 
of things changed since the previous day. Instead 
of express-wagons, luxurious turnouts with smart 
liveries flanked the street curb the entire length of 
the building, while a steady current of people was 
surging through the open entrance. 

There appeared to be no dogs going in to-day; 
however, that did not alter my determination to get 
inside if possible. 

“ It’s too risky,” Newfoundland urged, halting 
resolutely at the foot of the steps and turning his 
head away. 

“ Don’t be a coward ! ” I said, scornfully, pro- 
voked at his obstinacy and resolving to go ahead 
without him if he chose not to follow ; but he crept 
reluctantly along behind me, as I felt pretty sure 
he would do, for the suggestion of food was too 
101 


PUP 


great a temptation for him to withstand. Presently 
we found ourselves in the vestibule without having 
encountered any hindrance thus far. 

No one appeared to have noticed us; but as 
we approached the turnstile we were roughly or- 
dered out. 

Newfoundland slunk off at once. I had ventured 
too far to be daunted so easily. I had too much 
at stake; it was more to me than the matter of 
a dinner. I was resolved to see the inside of the 
hall. So I dropped my head and tail and crept 
quietly back against the wall to await a favourable 
opportunity to* slip in unobserved. For some time 
I stood there, with one eye on the passing people, 
the other upon the turnstile. I waited patiently 
until the attention of the man was diverted for a 
moment, and then sneaked quietly past and darted 
out into the floor of the big hall. 

Standing quite still, I looked about me. 

Everything shone under the glare of numberless 
white and red lights. 

Once before I had witnessed this same dazzling 
effect of light and decoration; it was on the night 
Richard had brought my mistress in her beautiful 
gown and jewels. Here was the same gay and 
graceful festooning of flags and bunting and the 
same bewildering maze of people. 

But I had time to observe a most exciting new 
feature of this event before the beautiful vision 
was rudely dispelled. 


102 


PUP 


Upon all sides was a countless array of dogs. 
Great Danes, St. Bernards, and hounds of all types 
were there, ranged rank and file with collies and 
pugs and poodles, — all laughing, barking, and 
whimpering, or blinking away in lazy contentment, 
each one the adored of somebody, and all, to- 
gether, a delight to the eye of the fortunate spec- 
tator. 

The low murmur of people’s voices intermingled 
with bow-wows in different keys. I recognized the 
deep bay of a fox-hound far down the hall; the 
lively staccato of a Boston terrier rose somewhere 
above the din of innumerable other bow-wows ; and, 
near by, the contented “ woof ” of a Newfoundland 
caught my ear. 

I was sorry my Newfoundland had been such a 
coward. I would go up and speak to this brother 
in breed before trying to hunt for my greyhound 
friends. 

Alas, how rudely our fondest hopes are shattered, 
just as they appear at the point of fulfilment! 

A strong hand from somewhere behind seized my 
collar, and I was shoved and pushed and urged in 
the most violent and uncompromising terms to “ Get 
along there ! ” until, unresisting, I found myself 
through the turnstile and at the outer entrance 
once more. Here, although I had shown no dis- 
position to bite or in any way to resent the fellow’s 
violence, he gave me a savage kick in the ribs that 
sent me yelping down the steps, where I crouched 

103 


PUP 


whimpering at the feet of a lady and her two young' 
daughters, who stood awaiting their carriage. 

I looked up and implored their sympathy. 

The lady turned upon the fellow, who had fol- 
lowed me down the steps, and said something in 
a very scornful tone, whereupon he sulked off with- 
out making any reply. The two girls stooped and 
patted me, and said such kind and comforting words 
that my aching side at once felt greatly relieved. 
I rubbed my nose against the hands of my new 
friends and kissed them, and tried in my dumb way 
to express the gratitude I felt for their sympathy. 
In return, they continued to stroke my coat, which, 
I am glad to say, was quite clean and white, thanks 
to John. 

The voices of the girls were so gentle and sweet 
and their faces so sunny, I felt at once they would 
be most delightful companions for Tom and me in 
our walks and sports, if we might only have them. 

When the carriage came up, I saw them turn to 
me with a look of regret, and my heart quite melted 
toward them. At once I resolved to follow the 
carriage and find out where they lived. I had 
suddenly made up my mind I would like to visit 
them sometime, and must find the way to their home 
now. 

For a long distance I trotted along behind the 
carriage, unobserved; then the coachman turned 
and cracked his whip at me and bade me go back. 
I stopped for a moment, looked hesitatingly down 

’ 104 


PUP 


the long avenue behind me, then started resolutely 
on again. All my life I had attained my most 
desired purposes by being persistent, and I was not 
to be baffled at the first obstacle now. 

No further notice was taken of me until we 
arrived at the home of my new acquaintances. I 
entertained some doubts respecting the welcome 
I would meet, remembering the snap of the coach- 
man’s whip, and felt a bit guilty at having dis- 
obeyed his emphatic command to go back; con- 
sequently, it was with rather a shamefaced air that I 
went up to my friends as they stepped from the 
carriage. I pleaded eloquently for pardon, as only 
an affectionate dog can plead, and begged to be 
allowed to remain just a little while to play with 
them. 

They assured me by repeated hugging and pat- 
ting that my devotion excused the offence, and 
my tail, which I had tucked misgivingly between 
my legs, was now withdrawn and wagged jubilantly 
at the happy consummation of my wishes. I bounded 
ahead up the broad steps, and then turned and 
laughed back at them from the landing. 

Neither Bertha nor Alice was as big as my 
Tom, but I soon found they were jolly good play- 
fellows, all the same; and, after they had coaxed 
cook for a bit of cold meat for me, we raced across 
to the stables for Thomas the coachman to see 
what a really fine animal the greyhound was. 

I was so glad Thomas didn’t crack his whip at 

105 


PUP 


me again. I wonder why he should have tried so 
hard to drive me back when he was so nice to me 
in the stable? Men have such unaccountable ways, 
it is quite beyond the comprehension of us dogs 
sometimes ! 

Well, never mind the past! I had no desire to 
let it interfere with my good time, now that Thomas 
was inclined to be friendly with me. Presently the 
stable telephone-bell rang, and Thomas, with one 
ear at the receiver, answered mistress from the 
house : “ Yes, ma’am ; very well, ma’am ! ” and 
then said to the girls : “ Miss Bertha and Miss Alice, 
your mother wishes me to tell you that your father 
has come home and that dinner is waiting.” 

“ Come on, doggie ! ” and, with a “ Hurrah ! ” we 
all rushed for the house again. 

Mr. Morrison, the father of my new playmates, 
was quite as nice as Tom’s father. He threw 
a piece of cake to me as he sat at dinner, and laughed 
heartily when I caught it as it came sailing toward 
me. It was one of my neat tricks, and appeared 
to amuse him immensely, for he tossed another piece 
and yet another, all of which I caught as cleverly 
as I had the first. At this he laughed again, and, 
patting my head, called me a “ fine fellow.” 

Wherever I went, people all seemed to think me 
a fine fellow, and I became really very proud of 
myself — well, of course there were exceptions ; 
for instance, when I forgot my late excellent train- 
ing and did some dirty, vagrant trick, such as 

106 


PUP 


stealing a luncheon, or sneaking into Mistress’s 
drawing-room for a nap, when I knew very well 
I was not allowed there because of my loose white 
hairs that spoiled the beautiful upholsterings. 

But Mr. Morrison did not know of these occa- 
sional lapses from good manners, so I was a “ fine 
fellow ” to him, and I greatly wondered what he 
was going to do about me, when he called me to 
him and examined the plate on my collar. By the 
way, I never knew myself what was on the plate, 
nor why a plate need be put on every dog’s collar; 
but he said something about “ Walnut Street ” — 
that’s where Tom lives — and about “ telephone,” 
and wrote something in a little book he took from 
his pocket, and at bedtime Thomas came in and 
took me to the stable to sleep on a rug beside his 
bed. 

It was not until ordered to bed that I remem- 
bered Newfoundland alone in his kennel, or thought 
of the probable anxiety of Tom over my absence. 
Oh, dear, I did have a bad habit of running off 
and getting myself and my friends into difficulty, 
and no mistake about it! But, notwithstanding a 
few twinges of remorse, I snuggled down with 
my nose between my paws and soon forgot them in 
sleep. 

How I do pity my former companions in va- 
grancy when I am enjoying my bountiful lunches! 
No one can sympathize with them more appre- 
ciatively than myself, for have I not wandered the 

107 


PUP 


same forlorn ways, and many a time looked in vain 
for a wholesome morsel? Happily those days were 
over, and Miary left nothing for the appetite of a 
dog to desire ; neither did cook next morning, when 
I was called to breakfast in the Morrison kitchen. 
Cooks are all so kind and seem to understand so 
well what a greyhound’s appetite craves ! 

After I had lapped my pan clean of the last drop 
of bread and milk, I naturally looked about for 
Bertha and Alice, expecting a romp with them, 
as I had become accustomed to expect from Tom; 
but, instead, there was only time for a few hurried 
pats before they hastened away, each with her bag 
of books, and I was left disconsolate to pass the 
entire morning with Thomas. 

Thomas and I got on very well for a time. He 
was too busy, however, to amuse me long, and at 
last it became so stupid, with no excitement, I 
had about made up my mind to go home for a 
tramp with Newfoundland or a frolic with John, 
when the girls came home for luncheon, and I 
quickly changed my purpose. But I would go 
home at night to sleep in my kennel, — I was fully 
resolved to do that. Meantime, I would see what 
sort of chums girls were. 

We had a new kind of sport that afternoon. We 
played ball all over the library floor, which made 
great fun for me in nosing it out from hidden 
corners and underneath chairs. I found it almost 


108 


PUP 


as exciting as a rat-hunt, until, finally, cook let us 
go into her kitchen to pop corn and make candy. 

Now Tom never did that sort of thing, and it’s 
great sport, too, for it’s something good to eat. 
Wow ! What fun it was, crunching the big white 
bluffers between one’s teeth! And then the candy, 
— wow, wow ! — isn’t molasses candy rich ! ’Tis 
true, it does cling to a dog’s teeth, and sometimes 
I had to twist and pull to get my jaws apart when 
my long fangs became stuck fast in it; however, 
I soon found it would melt in time, and let go of 
itself. How the girls and cook laughed at me ! 

“ Girls are great fun. I wonder why I never found 
it out before? I must tell Tom as soon as I get 
home, for I’m sure he ought to know. And then 
the pop-corn and candy — well, what dog would not 
resolve to come again very soon ! ” This is what 
I said to myself, as I lay down under the table 
for a rest, while the girls helped cook tidy up her 
kitchen once more. 

“After all,” thought I, as evening approached, 
“ why hurry home to-night ? It’s bitterly cold out- 
side, and I’m warm and comfortable here. Why 
not wait until morning? I think, upon considera- 
tion, I will stay and sleep with Thomas again 
to-night.” 

I had stretched out on the rug before the library 
grate, to indulge in a firelight reverie and possibly 
a nap, having quite abandoned the thought of going 
home, when the door-bell rang, and presently Tom’s 

109 


PUP 


father and mother were receiving the warmest 
greetings from Mr. and Mrs. Morrison and the 
girls. There was much hand-shaking and laughing 
and conversation before their attention was directed 
to me, where I lay looking up under my eyelids 
with a good deal of doubt, and feeling rather 
ashamed at being found out in my truancy. I am 
sure I was treated with much greater consideration 
than I deserved, for they patted me kindly, even 
while they reprimanded me for running away. 

Although I could not understand all that tran- 
spired, I somehow comprehended that the families 
were old friends, who were overjoyed to meet once 
more, and who owed this happy circumstance to 
something concerning me and the plate on my collar. 

There was no further question respecting what 
I was to do. I was simply ordered on to the seat 
with Richard, after almost suffocating hugs from 
Bertha and Alice, and cordial good-bye pats from 
all, and driven home. 

“ Ah, Newfoundland, you don’t know what you’ve 
missed ! ” I whispered, exultingly, as we lay snug- 
gled together in the kennel that night. I had been 
giving him a confidential account of my adventures 
since we parted the day before. “ You’re too easily 
frightened, chum. You should know what a dog- 
show is like and how pop-corn and candy tastes — 
wow, wow ! ” and, licking my chops, which water 
even now at the recollection, I stuck my nose into 
the straw and went to sleep. 


110 


PUP 


CHAPTER XII. 

MISHAPS 


Spring came. 

If this were not intended solely as the history 
of a greyhound’s career, I should be strongly 
tempted to paint a pretty picture of the following 
months of intimacy that established the Ross and 
Morrison families on a new and stronger footing 
of friendship, — of the exchange of calls and dinners, 
and of the social evenings; but, since I promised 
to confine myself exclusively to that which touched 
my own life, I can refer to these things only briefly, 
as being the means whereby a warm and delightful 
comradeship sprang up between my Tom, and 
Bertha and Alice Morrison. This I can consistently 
do, since my goings and comings were so closely in- 
volved in theirs during the months that followed, 
and it would be quite impossible to tell the story 
of my summer, at least, without giving you a clue 
to the accident of their presence. 

A dog has no means of knowing exact ages, but 
I realized through some subtile consciousness that 
the girls were both younger than Tom; perhaps 
111 


PUP 


because he assumed somewhat more care and au- 
thority over them when they were off together than 
he was wont to do with others; possibly because 
they wore shorter dresses than most of Tom’s young 
lady friends, with whom he occasionally walked ; 
and because, always, he enjoyed a good romp with 
them and myself over the green fields of the park 
during the spring months, free from the restraint 
of grown-up dignity that must be observed in the 
society of girls after they have arrived at the years 
of young ladyhood and have bloomed out in long 
skirts, and transformed their tidy, long braids into 
frowsy masses about the face. 

However you may choose to account for it, I 
knew that they were not as old as Tom. And, 
because you needs must know them, since they 
came into my life so frequently after our first acci- 
dent of meeting, and continued so much a part and 
parcel of it all those delightful spring and summer 
months, I must occupy a brief space in telling you 
why, if I loved the blue-eyed rollicking Alice with 
wild enthusiasm, I entertained an equal, if quieter, 
passion for gentle and dignified Bertha. 

Both were fair; both were sweet. From Alice’s 
eyes flashed an ever-present challenge to sport, while 
Bertha’s invited one to quiet and happy hours of 
confidence in some restful nook. Alice’s laugh 
was the ringing call to a wild frolic ; Bertha’s soft, 
crooning voice invited one to pleasant dreams. 
When Alice came to her old friend Greyhound with 

112 


PUP 


molasses candy, Bertha was as sure to have pop- 
corn or peanuts ; both stroked my long, soft ears, 
and both played ball. No dog could choose between 
them, and no more could Tom. Winsome and 
sweet, each in her own charming way, our four- 
fold comradeship was thus rounded into absolute 
perfectness. 

And so it happened, when Tom’s skates were 
relegated to their old accustomed place on his bed- 
room wall, and those of the girls had disappeared 
into some mysterious quarters beyond the ken of 
a greyhound, that golf-balls began to whistle across 
the broad links of the public park, and Tom was 
seen oftenest with his two girl chums boarding an 
outbound car of an afternoon or Saturday morn- 
ing, with me in jubilant following. 

I was as eager for the sport as any one of them, 
and could follow the flying ball with unerring vision, 
and unearth it from its hiding-place with all the 
alertness of a caddy. 

Those were jolly afternoons; and the luncheon- 
hour on Saturday found us seated beside a cool 
spring, that had been rescued from its choked bed 
on a near-by hillside and let gush, free and refresh- 
ing, for thirsty golfers on the park-links. Our lunch- 
boxes were opened there, and a common feast of 
sandwiches and cake was spread, in which I shared 
unstintedly. 

If my friends could only have known how much 
more invigorating it was to lap from the copious 

113 


PUP 


overflow of the spring than to drink from a silver 
cup ! That was a privilege reserved solely for a 
dog. 

Prone upon the ground, for a lazy hour after 
luncheon, we all lay stretched, — Tom upon his 
back, with his cap drawn over his eyes to shield 
them from the bright, spring sun, and Alice and 
Bertha cuddled up on a shawl, usually with me 
between them, and their arms about my neck, or 
their fingers stroking my head and toying with 
my long, soft ears. 

Under these soothing influences, what could a 
dog do but take a nap? 

For some cause, Alice had been unable to go 
with us one morning. Had she been there, this 
incident need not have been told, since I then would 
have played no important part in the happening; 
as it was, I had an opportunity to prove my trust- 
worthiness in a moment of trouble. 

The luncheon-hour was at hand, and we had 
started for the spring. The links at this time were 
always deserted, except on such days as this, when 
Tom and the girls took their luncheon and spent 
the noon-hour beside the spring. The morning 
had passed delightfully, and all had gone well with 
us, until, through some unfortunate mischance, 
Bertha sprained her ankle in running. I never knew 
exactly how it happened, — I only know that I saw 
her suddenly sway to one side, and, with a little 
cry, drop heavily upon the ground. Tom was some 

114 


PUP 


distance ahead, and no one near her but myself. 
I rushed up to where she lay and saw a white face 
and closed eyes and still lips, and knew something 
was wrong with my playmate. She would neither 
speak nor move, although I lapped her face and 
whined coaxingly. Then I leaped about and barked 
frantically for Tom. After a little, he looked back 
to see what I was making such a fuss about, and 
came hurrying up as fast as he could run. 

Tom was awfully scared. 

Bertha lay still and white and silent upon the 
ground. Tom knew no more than myself what had 
happened, but he did what I could not do: he 
took her in his strong arms and hurried away to 
the spring, where he laid her upon the green grass 
again and dashed water in her face and bathed her 
hands, and then poured a few drops carefully be- 
tween her lips, until presently, with a low moan, 
she opened her eyes. She said something in a 
plaintive voice — told Tom what had happened, I 
suppose, for Tom at once pulled off her shoe and 
felt of her ankle. All the while, I stood anxiously 
by. Then he arose to his feet and appeared to be 
thinking very soberly for a minute ; next, I saw 
him hurriedly pulling off his sweater — then his 
shirt. 

Quickly as he could get it torn up, he wound the 
long strips round and round Bertha’s ankle and 
foot, and then poured the cold water upon it until 
it was thoroughly saturated. He sat by her side 

115 


PUP 


and bathed her face with more water, until she 
appeared to recover and be able to tell him all 
about the accident. 

Tom found himself with a very serious responsi- 
bility on his hands. What he should do next was 
a puzzling problem. There was no one around to 
assist him, and Bertha was suffering and unable 
to take a step. Finally, he seemed to hit upon some 
plan, for he turned to me and said, very seriously : 
“ Pup, do you lie right here and take care of Bertha 
until I come back. Do you understand? Lie right 
down here and do* not leave her ! ” 

I understood, and crept pityingly close beside my 
little friend and crouched upon the ground. Then 
Tom made a pillow of his jacket for her head, and 
poured more cold water upon the bandages, put on 
his sweater, and started off on a run. 

Bertha’s face looked very strange and sad, and 
I reached over and licked her cheek; then she put 
her arm about my neck and began to cry softly. 

“ Oh, doggie, I can’t help it ! ” she sobbed. “ My 
foot aches so ! ” 

Poor dear! She had been so brave not to cry 
before Tom, but now she just could not keep the 
tears back, and I kissed her face over and over and 
whimpered my pity. 

It was not long before Tom returned in one of 
the park barges, and, lifting her gently up into it, 
while I was allowed to clamber up beside them, we 
were driven out to the entrance where the trolley- 

116 


PUP 


cars passed. Here, once more, Tom took Bertha in 
his arms — don’t I remember how gently and se- 
curely he lifted me months before! — and carried 
her into a waiting car ; and so we brought the little 
sufferer to her home. 

Tom carried her up the long walk and up the 
steps, strong and steady, and laid her upon a couch 
in her father’s library, where a strange man came 
presently, and, removing the bandages with an ap- 
proving word to Tom, examined the foot carefully, 
then rebandaged it and poured some of the stuff 
upon it that I recognized again by its smell. 

Bertha played golf no more that spring ; indeed, 
for many days she could walk about only on 
crutches. I think a sprained ankle is quite as bad 
as a lame hip. Tom and I went over very often to 
see her, and Tom always carried a box of candy. 

But spring brings more than golf and an acci- 
dent to a friend into a dog’s life, particularly when 
he has no recollection of any previous spring out 
under blue and sunny skies, in the midst of spring- 
ing grass-blades and budding trees. There is some- 
thing in the very atmosphere of all things that 
makes the blood of God’s creatures flow with fresh 
impulse through their veins, and sets life gushing 
forth in abundant overflow of vigour and enthu- 
siasm. We dumb creatures are no less sensible of 
this subtle influx of energy because we cannot trace 
its upspringing or moralize upon its purpose; we 
know only that the world to us takes on new ra- 

117 


PUP 


diance, and all things that have heretofore been 
good are infinitely better, and that our hearts swell 
in divine harmony with the buds and grass-blades. 

All things seem in tune with a dog’s own emo- 
tions. The pigeons’ feathers shone with a brighter 
iridescence; they cooed contentedly and pecked at 
the grain close under my nose, seeming to invite a 
friendly remonstrance from me, as I took one of 
my old-time naps in the sunshine that fell soft and 
warm across the stable doorway. Let me scatter 
them in a moment of mischievous impulse, and they 
waited only for me to return to my nap, to settle 
back saucily and challenge me to further fun. The 
fat, sleek squirrels on the Common glided with 
floating brush close alongside the walk where I 
trotted in my daily rambles ; they were conscious, 
through some delicate perception, that were I in- 
clined to give chase, it would be only a friendly 
sprint, certain to end at the foot of the nearest 
tree-trunk, where from the lowest branches they 
would chitter back their saucy defiance. The babies, 
even, in their perambulators, fresh in new trappings 
of ribbons and lace and robes, put out their tiny 
hands to touch my head, as I stopped for a brief 
look at their dainty faces. All are trusting and 
confident and loving in the spring. A greyhound 
knows it, and he cannot explain the why or where- 
fore. 

After the soft atmosphere of June settled upon 
us, the kennel was once more removed to the stable 

118 


PUP 


yard, and Newfoundland and I took up our nightly 
quarters again under the open sky, where we could 
watch the stars blinking or the big moon rising 
high and full over our heads. Our daily rambles 
continued. 

Among the city dogs we were wont to meet dur- 
ing the winter, a few had disappeared, and some 
strange ones had joined the ranks; but, among 
them all, not an English greyhound. My desire to 
find some of my kin had been at rest only tempo- 
rarily; ever and again came the longing to know 
some of my kind, and I had already taken up my 
old habit of roving. It had a strange fascination 
for me — this unrewarded, but ever-hopeful search 
for my own. I think I never felt quite discouraged. 
Disappointed I frequently was, after a two or three 
days’ tramp, in which I usually found but indiffer- 
ent lodging and foraged for food; but in my heart 
there was the constant expectancy of finding my 
family. 

Newfoundland came to me one day greatly ex- 
cited and with an exhilarating piece of news : he 
had found a greyhound in his morning stroll, not 
like me in colour, — “ Oh, no, very different ! ” — 
he could not tell in what way, — more like his 
coat, he thought, — but, nevertheless, a greyhound. 
He knew by the long legs, the slender body, the 
delicate ears, the pointed nose, and I “ must come 
right away and find out about her.” 

I needed no urging; so over to the kennels of 

119 


PUP 


an aristocratic stable on Fenway Avenue we made 
all possible haste, to find only a sober-coloured Ital- 
ian greyhound, who turned her high-bred, priggish 
little nose up at us in disdain of our pretence of 
kinship. She was scarcely civil at best, and did 
not fail to convince us that, not only was relation- 
ship impossible, but quite undesirable from the 
standpoint of both parties. 

When did an Englishman ever fail to swagger 
as pompously as an Italian? I walked out of the 
yard with as great an air of importance and dignity 
as my lady of sunny Italy ever presumed to take 
on, and my cool “Woof!” at parting must have 
offended her pride quite as much as her frigid re- 
ception had aroused mine. 

“ Oh, well, my lady, we may yet meet when I shall 
wear the blue ribbon, while you — well, I can see 
nothing extraordinary about you, anyway, except 
your unfriendly spirit ! ” I was too civil, however, 
to say this aloud to her. 

There are some things a greyhound does not en- 
joy. If anything will humiliate him more than 
playing a ridiculous part in a scene, it is being 
reminded of it afterward, and, when I was driv- 
ing with Mistress one day, stretched at her feet 
in happy devotion, I did not take it kindly of 
Richard to halt by the shore of the pond where that 
detestable flock of swans was swimming. I shut 
my eyes and turned away my face in disgust, while 
they stretched their long necks forth toward us and 

120 


PUP 


hissed a spiteful warning. It made me feel so 
mortified at remembering my ignominious flight ! I 
have felt ever since the affair that, if I had shown 
grit, I would have had the best of it in a free fight ; 
but then, I was taken so unawares I had no time 
to think of anything but to escape the fierce on- 
slaught of wings and beaks. 

Then again, I acted somewhat sneakishly when- 
ever I went to the wharf for rats, for I certainly 
had been a most unwilling stowaway on that ocean 
voyage. I somehow felt as if a trick had been put 
up against me, and that I had not been shrewd 
enough to keep out of the trap, and was quite as 
ashamed of it as I was of the swan affair. So, 
gradually, I lost interest in my ship and my cap- 
tain, although I held fast my old-time comradeship 
with the stevedores, because we had such rollicking 
fun rat-hunting. You should have seen Newfound- 
land try it! I laugh enough to kill, just at the 
recollection. Such a dear, old, clumsy fellow ! 
He’s all right as a watch-dog (when not too sleepy), 
but as a first-class ratter — why, he’s simply a 
joke ! 

Newfoundland never rushed pell-mell into things 
as I did. I think it was principally on account of 
his bulkiness, his shorter legs than mine, and his 
heavy coat of hair. Many a laugh has he had at my 
expense when, through hot-headedness, I have 
plunged myself into some ridiculous situation; but 
if the tables were turned, I noticed he sulked as 
121 


PUP 


much as I ever did. It had been some time since 
I had had a right good laugh at his expense, but 
finally the opportunity came, and it came to stay. 

The weather during the latter part of June be- 
came very warm and oppressive. Dust lay over 
everything thick and white, and loaded the very 
air we breathed. I could shake myself fairly free 
of it when I came in from a race, and rolling about 
a little in the grass that had been freshened up by 
the hose I found to be almost as satisfactory as a 
good bath. Not so with Newfoundland. His long 
curly hair caught and held quantities of the powdery 
dust, and turned his handsome black coat to a grizzly 
gray. Besides, he grew logy and stupid under the 
oppressive heat, and I could scarcely induce him to 
a frolic as the days sped on. 

I suppose Richard must have noticed it as well, 
for, upon coming in from a tramp one noon, I 
found poor old Newfoundland in the most gro- 
tesque cut of dress that ever fell to the lot of a 
dignified dog to wear. He was the very person- 
ification of shame and debasement. I walked around 
him to take it in from all points of view, and then 
sat back upon my haunches and laughed. 

“ Well, ’pon my word, old fellow, if they haven't 
made a picture-book of you ! What species of beast 
do you represent, anyhow? Say, old chap, you’d 
make a fortune letting yourself out for a show 
this summer. What about the 4 Freak Company’? 
Come on down-town; we’ll get you a permanent 

122 


PUP 


engagement and no questions asked. They’ll take 
you upon sight, all right ! ” 

I know it was nasty in me to jolly the poor 
fellow so, but really the joke was irresistible. Rich- 
ard had had him clipped close, except about the head 
and shoulders; a tuft was left at the tip of the 
tail, likewise the curly fringe of the fetlocks. He 
seemed a whimsical cross between dog, lion, and 
horse, not bearing sufficient resemblance to either 
so he could boast of it. I felt indignant myself, 
after my amusement subsided somewhat, that Rich- 
ard should have trimmed my friend up in that 
ridiculous fashion. I felt ashamed to walk the 
streets with him, and how much deeper must have 
been poor Newfoundland’s humiliation! Why not 
have shorn the shaggy breast and shoulders, and left 
a clean tail and hocks? 

Newfoundland confessed his body was cooler, 
but thought a thing once begun were better com- 
pleted, than left as if one had become tired of his 
job and quit. 

Men have such strange ways of doing things! 
I think I have made that observation before. 


123 


PUP 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THE FAMILY FLIGHT 

At last there came a day when Tom rushed up 
the driveway with a “ Hurrah ! ” and threw his 
empty school-bag, in fine contempt of it, far into a 
corner of the stable, and executed some sort of a 
crazy jig on heel and toe. John and Richard 
laughed, while I looked on, wondering what was 
up. I was used to such manifestations, but had 
come to understand they meant some sort of fun 
ahead, and I wondered if I were to be included 
in it this time. 

I watched Tom's movements closely and followed 
at his heels for several days, trying to make out just 
what was in the wind. He made frequent trips 
to town ; his bicycle was polished afresh, and trunks 
were brought forth from the stable loft. There was 
much unusual commotion at the house, also. Mary's 
kitchen was untidy with numberless boxes, bags, 
and bundles, and goodness knows what besides, 
strewn around it, and confusion reigned in other 
parts of the house. Then it seemed one morning 
as if breakfast was served hastily and carelessly, 

124 


PUP 


while, contrary to custom, I found Mistress help- 
ing Mary at the dishes, while Nora, the parlour 
maid, was rushing about on numberless errands. 

Out on the front porch trunks were piled helter- 
skelter, as I was accustomed to see them at the 
docks. Presently a lumbering express-wagon rolled 
up the driveway, and they were loaded upon it and 
driven off. A little later, the family carriage ap- 
peared, with John and Richard on the box, and 
then the most unaccountable thing happened : 
Mistress and Mary came out, dressed for travelling, 
and, together with Tom and myself, entered the 
carriage and were driven swiftly away. I really 
felt bewildered. I never knew Mistress to take 
Mary out riding before; and, besides, we did not 
take the direction of the boulevards, — on the con- 
trary, we drove straight toward town. Then I 
remembered the trunks, and a vision of the docks 
arose. A great fear came into my heart that all 
this mysterious proceeding might mean a sea-voy- 
age, for in just such way had I seen fine ladies with 
their maids drive to the steamer pier. All that array 
of trunks was ominous. 

But, instead, we alighted at a railway station, 
where Tom hooked a leash into the ring of my 
collar, and led me into a waiting-room thronged 
with people, — out through a high gateway at which 
was stationed a man in gilt-banded cap and bright 
buttons, — thence past a long line of waiting cars, 
until we came to one where a truck was standing 

125 


PUP 


piled high with trunks and bags. After these were 
stowed away in the car, I was put in and the end 
of my leash made fast to a staple; then, with a 
pat on the head, Tom left me. 

When I found myself abandoned in this strange 
fashion, I was frantic. I barked and tugged at my 
leash and refused to be pacified. What cared I that 
others spoke kindly, and patted me and called me 
“ nice dog ” ? I knew nothing about such close- 
packed, dark old cars, nor whither they might carry 
me. I didn’t want to be carried anywhere that 
Tom did not go. I presumed the fellows were 
good enough, and kind, but they were neither Tom 
nor John, nor even Richard. 

Oh, why was I ever induced to come? But then, 
I had had such implicit faith in Tom, who in all 
his life had never played me a nasty trick before. 
I felt betrayed and humiliated. I stubbornly re- 
sisted my leash; but it was of no use — all this 
struggling; I was tethered fast and destined to 
some undesirable journey, and, perhaps, to final 
separation from my old friends — of this I had no 
doubt. 

I was still tugging hopelessly at my leash when 
there came a jerk that nearly threw me from my 
feet; then another; then a gliding motion, and 
I knew we were started on the inevitable journey. 
I howled in protest; then I whined pleadingly at 
the men who sat perched upon some trunks. They 
seemed to pity me, but pity did not release me. 

126 


PUP 


Faster and faster we sped along. The train 
swayed around curves, and I lurched heavily, — 
now against the car, — now against the trunks that 
flanked me on either side ; it seemed like the old- 
time pitching and rolling of my ship at sea. 

They coaxed me to lie down, but I was stubborn 
and would not. I didn’t choose to be made com- 
fortable and reconciled. I asked only for my 
liberty, and, if it were denied me, I would endure 
imprisonment in such manner as I pleased. I didn’t 
care a rap for their friendship, either; they were 
neither John nor Tom, and I would have none of 
them. 

Oh, there is no question about it — I was by far 
the most miserable and abused dog I had known 
since I was carried so unceremoniously to sea 
months before. 

Suddenly the speed slackened; slowly and more 
slowly the train rolled along, until, with as sudden 
a jerk as when it started, it came to a standstill and 
precipitated me headlong upon the floor. I was 
frightfully angry, and scowled and barked sullenly. 
The door of the car opened, and baggage was 
thrown off and other tossed in. Then, as if a 
miracle had happened, my Tom leaped into the car 
beside me, and happiness once more reigned su- 
preme in the soul of a greyhound. Now I cared 
not whither I was carried, since there, also, my 
beloved Tom was going. 

To be sure, the old uncertain rolling and jerking 

127 


PUP 


was not very agreeable, but Tom was by my side, 
and I crouched, reassured by his presence, in the 
midst of the good-natured railroad chaps, and the 
crackers they tossed to me were really very appe- 
tizing, since, in the excitement of the morning, I 
had been too curious to spend much time over my 
breakfast 

After what seemed to me a long, tiresome ride, 
we stopped at a station where Tom took me for a 
walk up and down the platform, after going inside 
for a sandwich and a glass of milk. Much to my 
delight and astonishment, there in the lunch-room 
I found Mistress and Mary and John. 

“ Well, after all,” thought I, “ I guess I’ve been 
making a good deal of unnecessary ado ! ” and felt 
ashamed that I had not placed more confidence in 
my friends. I was not forsaken; on the contrary, 
all seemed to be going, too, except Master and 
Richard. But, never mind; I doubted not they 
would appear in good time. It mattered but little, 
anyway, as long as I had Tom. 

Oh, I was a most docile dog now ! 

I can give no account of the country through 
which we passed, shut in from outside observation 
as I was. I knew only that I was contented; that 
it seemed a very long ride; that, when the car 
became hot and stifling and I panted for air, the 
boys gave me a dish of cool water; and that at 
last we arrived at the end of our journey by cars, 
only to take other conveyance farther on. All the 

128 


PUP 


means I had of estimating time was by noticing the 
sun that hung high and hot overhead, and by the 
gnawing of hunger at my stomach : luncheon-time, 
I should judge. 

Tom found his bicycle somewhere in the mass 
of baggage, after the train had pulled on and 
left us, and, whistling to me, we started down 
through the town. Mistress and Mary had been 
driven off in the same direction in a comfortable 
k u £gy> while John and an expressman were follow- 
ing on a wagon loaded with our numerous trunks 
and bags. Down the busy business street, out into 
the suburbs of a quaint old town, we took our way, 
thence emerging into the fresh, open country, fol- 
lowing the way of a shining river in its sinuous 
course to the ocean. 

How good the open air seemed in contrast to the 
stuffy baggage-car! 

Pretty cottages nestled in the midst of grassy 
lawns along the roadway, with bright blossoms 
about the door and apple-orchards hovering near; 
graceful elms cast their cool shadows across the 
road ; and a narrow footpath, wide enough only 
for a dog or a bicycle, enabled us to keep out of 
the dust of the middle way. A bridge crossed a 
tiny brook; and here Tom halted to bathe his face, 
while I lapped my fill of the sweet, cool water, and 
then we wheeled and trotted on refreshed. 

I came very near to trouble a little farther along ; 
for, by the roadside, with never a pond in sight, 

129 


PUP 


I saw a flock of swans. I eyed them distrustfully, 
and shied around to one side, close under the fence, 
and made a wild dash past. They hissed angrily 
as I went by, and I congratulated myself upon 
my second narrow escape. I heard Tom laugh and 
say something about “geese,” but he couldn’t fool 
me — I knew swans, I thought, by this time. 

However, I saw nothing more to alarm me, and 
thoroughly enjoyed the cushiony path as I trotted 
along, it felt so much softer to my feet than the 
hard macadam of Boston’s boulevards or the stony 
pavements of the city streets. Birds flew up all 
about me; not quarrelsome little sparrows, either, 
but birds that held such beautiful songs in their 
throats that I thought : “ How happy country birds 
must be ! ” Presently a big, clumsy-looking one 
ran out from beneath the roadside shrubbery close 
by a cottage, and, giving a frightened squawk, at- 
tempted to cross the path. I couldn’t resist this 
unexpected opportunity for a bit of fun, so I sprang 
and caught it by the wing and rushed to Tom with 
the bird in my mouth. I expected him to praise 
me and call me “ Good Pup ! ” as he was in the 
habit of doing when I executed some neat bit of 
strategy; but, instead, he fairly yelled: “Drop it, 
Pup ! Drop that chicken ! ” and of course I dropped 
it. But “ Chicken, indeed ! ” I said to myself, quite 
disgusted, — “I guess I know chickens ! Chickens 
do not wear feathers ; at least, none did that I ever 
saw in the markets. This is a bird — bigger, to 

130 


PUP 


be sure, than those I used to see hanging in bunches 
alongside the chickens, — but a bird, nevertheless. 
Tom, I’m surprised at your ignorance — and you’ve 
lived in the city all your life ! ” 

I was to learn my mistake later. 

Not many more incidents occurred worth relating. 
I chased a cat up a tree, met a strange dog follow- 
ing a team, and saw some cows, and two little ani- 
mals I afterward knew and loved as gentle-faced 
calves ; but these, I am glad to remember, I did not 
molest, and this ended my adventures until we 
reached “ Sokoki Lodge,” the summer home of 
master by the shore of the wide, ocean bay, where, 
it transpired, we were to pass one of the most de- 
lightful summers ever recorded in the memoirs of 
a city dog. 

The house, so deserted and blind when we arrived, 
became at once the scene of cheerful activity as 
doors were thrown open, windows unshuttered, and 
the long-darkened rooms flushed with the noonday 
sunshine. My curiosity was soon satisfied respect- 
ing the inside of the cottage. The outer world 
was less circumscribed, and this is what animal 
nature craves : constant opportunity for adventure, 
and space wherein to wander at will ; so I turned 
my attention to the resources of the neighbour- 
hood. 

Beside “ Sokoki Lodge ” was a pretty, vine- 
draped cottage, destined a few days later to be the 
scene of remarkable surprises to me, but standing 

131 


PUP 


then as voiceless and inhospitable in the security 
of bolted doors and shuttered windows as we had 
found our own cottage. I stood upon the walk 
and gazed over the pictured world around me : the 
broad bay, with its waves gently lapping the beach, 
where flocks of white gulls circled above and occa- 
sionally dove to the breast of the waters for a fish, 
or rested lightly for a moment upon its undulating 
surface; the mountain-born river, flowing through 
brimming banks to mingle its sweet waters in a 
deep, swift current with the salt floods of the At- 
lantic. I saw the sombre pines that trended their 
unbroken way from the river-mouth toward the 
“ White Hills ” of New Hampshire, where they hold, 
in their profound solitude, the little lake from which 
the beloved stream flows. I noticed the handful of 
cottages along the shore, and yonder, by the river, 
another group, while, in the edge of the grove, 
others yet nestled down among the balsamy odours 
and grateful shade. 

Lifting my nose, I sniffed the salt breath of the 
ocean; my lungs drank their fulness of it; my 
nostrils quivered with the scent of the sea, and 
my nerves tingled, inspired by the wildness and 
vastness and unlimited freedom of life around me. 
The spirit of the untamed was upon me. I bounded 
in free leaps to the beach, accepted the challenge 
of the tide, and raced wildly along its frothy margin. 
I scattered the flocks of startled sandpeeps, and 


132 


PUP 


barked loudly in exuberance of reawakened life 
and glad return to the heart of an unspoiled world. 

Away over the heather-clad sand-dunes I chased 
a flock of crows that I barked up from their grave 
council in the top of a dwarf pine which stood 
solitary in the midst of the heathery waste. I 
barked immoderately at the passing train as it 
crept along the shore on its way to the river-mouth, 
and vented my uncurbed emotions in a hundred 
reckless ways during that madly happy afternoon. 

As the sun sank behind the pines, I turned toward 
the cottage, and, as I slowly and meditatively plod- 
ded homeward, I realized for the first time how 
very gloriously full this summer world was of pos- 
sibilities for a greyhound. 

It was not until then that I became conscious of 
a craving at my stomach and a weariness in my 
legs ; but my mind was tranquil now. All the 
tumult had died out, and I was at peace and con- 
tent, and rfty home-coming promised supper and 
a night of rest. 


133 


PUP 


CHAPTER XIV. 

NEW NEIGHBOURS 

During the week that followed our arrival at 
“ Sokoki Lodge/’ all hands were too busy to pay 
more than passing attention to me, and I was 
necessarily left to my own resources. I spent the 
hours enjoying the novel scenes about “ Bayside,” 
and in becoming familiar with haunts that later 
were to afford me such pleasant pastime; for in- 
stance, the pier, where the river steamboat touched, 
with a half-dozen or more barefooted urchins 
dangling their legs over its sides, throwing out 
clam-baited lines to unwary flounders ; they amused 
me immensely, those great, flat fish, flopping about 
as they were landed struggling on the floor of 
the pier, and for a time I had a queer notion they 
were trying to play at some game of tag with me. 
I soon discovered, however, it was only their protest 
against being taken from the cool, green water to 
die in the hot sun. 

Then the hourly arrival of the little train, bring- 
ing its gay crowd of ladies and children, many 
of whom stopped to give me a friendly pat as they 

134 





-•* 




Jt 


m % 




3?* V 

v* v; 

' fl % 

■ * S. *C» I ] 

4 vL ■. *;*• 


u THE BOYS AND I WERE FIRST-RATE CHUMS ALL SUMMER ’ 







PUP 


passed on their way down the pier to the steamer. 
The boys on the train soon began to look for me 
as regularly as I did for them, and the glimpse of 
a blue uniform and bright buttons always set my 
tail a-wagging and brought a wide smile of satis- 
faction to my face. I was glad to find that Tom 
knew them and approved of our friendship, because 
it gave me the opportunity of many a ride on the 
baggage-car during the summer between Ocean- 
view and Bayside, quite as often without Tom as 
with him. The boys and I were first-rate chums 
all summer, and one thing which made it partic- 
ularly interesting was that before long they dis- 
covered my fondness for molasses candy and pop- 
corn. Um-m-m ! I can taste it now, and long to 
crunch the great white bluffers again and suck my 
teeth free of some more sticky sweetness. 

Then, besides the arrival and departure of train 
and steamboat, the numerous rowboats and canoes 
interested me. I had long been familiar with the 
big ocean steamers and fishing-smacks at the city 
docks, but the canoes, and the pretty girls with 
their books and cushions, and the trim lads that 
lounged about the river-bank or paddled offshore, 
were a phase of life quue new to me, and I found 
it worth while to associate myself with it. I had 
lots of fun romping on the sands with them, to say 
nothing of the feasts of bonbons from the omni- 
present chocolate-box. 

During these first few days, while left to my 

135 


PUP 


own devices, I made remarkable progress toward a 
summer acquaintance with the young people. Later 
I was to know the fishermen through Tom, and to 
these fine fellows I became greatly attached, be- 
cause of their devotion to him. I didn’t much enjoy 
their taking him away from me on a two or three 
days’ cruise to the fishing-grounds, but I soon came 
to understand that, except for the loneliness, I had 
nothing to fear; they never failed to bring him 
back safe and sound, although with face and arms 
burned almost as red as those ugly, spidery-looking 
lobsters. 

Mistress and I had a few bad nights during the 
summer, when the wind was high and the sea 
pounding like some giant’s trip-hammer on the 
beach. During the lonely hours, when darkness 
was so intense that the glare of the red lantern from 
the lighthouse tower on the island yonder scarcely 
cut the blackness, we experienced many an anxious 
heart-throb. Notwithstanding Tom was beyond the 
dangerous reefs and with the trusty fisher-boys, the 
knowledge afforded us scanty comfort; we were 
still anxious and restless, and went often to the door 
to peer out into the wild night, as if half-expecting 
the familiar footstep up the walk, all the while 
knowing well that safety lay outside, not within, 
the breakers that foamed and hissed and threw 
threatening seas against the massive walls of the 
breakwater at the river-mouth, and over the savage 
reefs around “ Lighthouse Island.” 


136 


PUP 


When I became tired of the pier and station and 
canoe-harbour, I found some rare sport on the 
beach among the sandpeeps. I really think they 
are more fun than the sparrows. And then the 
race with the tide! It tried so cunningly to catch 
me unawares and give me a ducking, as it did Tom, 
but I was too shrewd. I allowed it to break at 
my feet; but long legs were given me for a pur- 
pose. I accepted its challenge; I raced wildly up 
and down the beach in the fringe of spume, and 
barked a tantalizing defiance as a few stray drops 
now and then sprinkled my coat, but it failed to 
allure or surprise me into its watery embrace. 

So full of excitement were those first days at 
Bayside that the nightfall found a weary dog as well 
as a weary household. It was then we repaired to 
the wide verandas, to rest among the cushions and 
hammocks, and watch the fascinating play of twi- 
light over the quiet bay and await the first red 
gleam from the lighthouse tower on its little tree- 
clad island. The great lurid eye over the tops of 
the sombre trees was a profound mystery to me for 
days. It flashed ominously, faded into darkness, 
and presently reappeared, a challenging or threat- 
ening glower. I could not comprehend its pur- 
port, but I watched it curiously and suspiciously. 
On an opposite point of the bay its twin tower 
arose — the two tall white sentinels of the coast, 
revealing by night the treacherous reefs on which, 
in days gone by, many a fine craft had ended her 

137 


PUP 


voyage, and whose slimy hulks lay rotting in their 
ocean graveyard fathoms below. 

I did not know then what pleasant hours Light- 
house Island held in store for a greyhound, nor 
what a glorious incarnation of brotherly love and 
cleverness I was to find in “ Sailor,” the keeper’s 
collie. Happily, I had sufficient food for medita- 
tion without knowing beforehand all the good times 
Dame Fortune held in her lucky-box for me. 

But those evenings at home gave me a certain 
restful enjoyment that was quite as satisfactory at 
the time as the more exciting events of the day. 
There was only one obstacle to my perfect tran- 
quillity of mind, and that was Mary. I think John 
paid her much more attention than was necessary. 
Really, I had come to feel very sensitive over it; 
it gave me sad moments. Mary would much better 
be making cake than fooling with John when I 
needed him to amuse me! Surely, I had every 
reason to expect a little attention from my old friend 
when evening came and there was no more work 
to be done. But things were arranged without 
consulting me. 

Mary’s hammock was swung across the corner 
of the side veranda, and a big chair sat beside it 
for John. I felt quite indignant and disgusted that 
he should sit by her side and hold her hand when 
I expected him to stroke my head as he used to do 
at the stable. I laid my nose across his knee coax- 
ingly, then I snuggled it into his hand, but it was 

138 


PUP 


of no use ; he wouldn’t take a hint, neither did he 
yield to my entreaty. He just held Mary’s hand 
and paid no heed to his old greyhound chum. Mary 
didn’t appear to be ill, either, that she required so 
much attention. She laughed and fed John with 
candy, but never offered me a taste. Then they 
whispered secrets, until I turned away feeling quite 
grieved and offended at the unsociable treatment I 
received. It would have been much better had 
Mistress brought Nora, the parlour maid, and left 
Mary at home. 

Now Tom was different; he just put pillows 
under his mother’s head, as she lay in the hammock 
on the front porch, threw a rug over her feet, 
and whistled me to his side on the cottage steps to 
watch the moonlight over the bay and talk of the 
wonderful things we were going to do all summer. 
Tom had none of John’s silly notions in his head! 
If he happened to take a girl friend by the hand, 
he didn’t sit and hold it a long time and forget 
all about a dog. 

Presently, as the moon rose higher, we strolled 
together down to the grassy margin of the beach, 
and watched the waves lapping the sand and the 
silver sparkles of water in the broad path of 
moonlight down the bay. I remembered that I 
had seen the same moonlit ocean from the deck 
of my ship, and had howled at the great fiery ball 
in the sky, although it kept right on shining in 
spite of my noisy protest. 

139 


PUP 


My bed had been laid in Tom’s chamber. I took 
up my old trick of waking him in the morning 
and of getting my second nap in bed beside him. 
But Tom was lazy, as usual ; and, in fact, the whole 
family fell into the habit of lying abed until the 
whistle and rumble of the seven o’clock train made 
them open their eyes. I had to take up my old 
trick of scratching and whining at bedchamber 
doors after my nap was over, or perhaps we should 
have had no breakfast for the day. I don’t un- 
derstand how one can sleep with the sun shining 
so high out of the water and the morning so glo- 
riously fine ! 

I missed Prince. I wondered, also, why Richard 
and Newfoundland and master were not with us. 
The empty stall in the stable looked so forlorn that 
I whined pitifully, until John patted me on the head. 
I think he missed dear old Prince, too, and felt 
sorry for even a greyhound. I really didn’t know 
how fond I had grown of Prince until I saw that 
empty stall. 

At last there came a day when all the bustle 
and confusion about the house had subsided. Every- 
thing was spick and span about the premises, inside 
and out. All the shutters and trunks were put 
away out of sight, and Mary and John began to 
find leisure hours once more. Then a surprising 
thing took place : John went across to “ Idle 
Hour ” one early morning, and, with Tom’s help, 
began to remove shutters, unbolt doors, and throw 

140 


PUP 


open the windows. Mary and Mistress busied thom- 
selves about inside. While Mary swept and dusted, 
Mistress gathered the wild beach-pea blossoms and 
hedge-roses and put them in vases about the sitting- 
room, and filled the fireplaces with sweet -bay bush 
that grows so plentifully about Bayside. I wandered 
in and out, trying to fathom the secret of these 
strange proceedings in an empty cottage. Tom 
seemed wonderfully cheerful, and whistled coon 
songs, until it reminded me of the old days on the 
golf-links with Bertha and Alice. I had another 
homesick feeling, just as I experienced at the sight 
of the empty stall, and was obliged to go off to 
the beach and scare up sandpeeps to get rid of the 
blues. 

I had quite forgotten my trouble in chasing peeps 
and gulls, when I heard the whistle of the train. 
I always tried to be around when the train came 
along, to get my cheery “ Hello, Pup ! ” from the 
boys and race the engine to the station; so my 
long legs took me quickly over the bank and across 
the track. Much to my astonishment, the engine 
pulled up, panting and hissing, in front of “ Idle 
Hour,” and, what was stranger still, every one, 
including John and Mary, was at the cottage walk 
to meet it. I looked up and down the length of 
the train with great curiosity. A brakeman from 
the rear hallooed to me, and the conductor stood 
by the steps waiting to assist some one to the 
ground. I could scarcely believe my eyes, and 

141 


PUP 


thought it must be some illusion of sleep, when I 
saw master, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Morrison, 
alight from the car. I couldn’t get a chance to 
leap up around them, they were so busy shaking 
hands and laughing with Tom and his mother, and 
with John and Mary as well. There was great 
danger of my being stepped on in the excitement, 
so there was nothing for me to do but to slink 
back a little and await my turn. 

As I did so, I looked over beyond their heads 
just in time to see the conductor helping Bertha 
and Alice down the steps of the car. 

What cared I any longer for grown-up folks ! I 
made one wild dash around the hand-shaking group 
and leaped about my dear girls, until we became so 
dreadfully mixed up in less than a minute it were 
difficult to pick out dog or girl. Both girls had 
their arms about me, and I kissed their faces and 
wriggled and danced and barked, until everybody 
in the car windows looked and laughed at our 
boisterous meeting. But they couldn’t possibly half- 
understand how glad a dog I was. As for Tom — 
well, he came in after me with his welcome; but, 
of course, Tom couldn’t get such hugs as a dog gets 
— that is where it is an advantage in being a dog. 

Of course, I was quite upset over this joyful 
surprise. I am sure I did not sober down or act 
with any reason or dignity for a long time. There 
was a tremendous amount of pent-up feeling to be 
let out, and it couldn’t be done in a minute. 


142 


PUP 


The whole happy party entered “ Idle Hour,” 
where, it appeared, Mrs. Morrison and the girls 
were to spend the summer months, neighbours to 
the Ross family in “ Sokoki Lodge ” next door. 

After faces were bathed and the dust of travel 
brushed away, everybody went over to Tom’s, where 
Mistress and Mary had prepared luncheon, and a 
jollier tea-party no dog ever attended. Every little 
while I broke out in a fit of riotous bow-wows, quite 
unable to restrain my feelings any longer. I leaped 
upon master and nestled up to Mr. Morrison and 
frisked about Alice and Bertha like a six-months-old 
puppy, until, really, all they could do was to sit back 
and laugh almost to choking at my crazy antics. 


143 


PUP 


CHAPTER XV. 

"tit for tat" 

Well, who would have thought it possible for 
so many good things to come into the life of a dog ! 

John was very kind to help carry in the trunks, 
as he had already done so much in opening the 
cottage and getting things in readiness for the com- 
ing of the Morrison family; and I noticed Mr. 
Morrison slip something into his hand as he came 
out after the last trunk had been carried up-stairs, 
at which John touched his hat, and said, “ Thank 
you, sir ! ” A little later, Bertha came over to find 
Mary, and gave her a neatly wrapped parcel from 
her mother. I hope it was something quite as nice 
as John’s present, for Mary had certainly shown 
a most amiable spirit by sweeping and dusting and 
attending to so many things that contributed to 
the comfort of the family when it was sure to arrive 
tired and hungry. 

After tea, the girls went with Tom and me for 
a race along the beach, and then we sat on the 
sand in the white moonlight, and told stories and 

144 


PUP 


ate pop-corn that Bertha had bought in the train 
especially for her old friend, Greyhound. 

I certainly had been a very happy dog during 
all that pleasant June week, and the day was end- 
ing with such exquisite sensations of peace and 
contentment that it held no forebodings of any evil 
that could possibly mar my future enjoyment; so 
I trotted around to a clump of sweet bay behind 
the stable to gnaw at a bone which I had buried 
there, just as a “nightcap” before going in to 
bed with Tom. 

Thus far I had seen no cats and felt sure I was 
not to be disturbed in any of my privileges by the 
treacherous beasts, and so gnawed my bones and 
lapped my milk at all hours with a confidence that I 
had not always enjoyed. Although I retained the 
most affectionate recollections of Mopsy, I had had 
numerous other experiences that caused me to look 
upon cats in general with an eye of distrust. 

It is a constant surprise to a greyhound to find 
girls with so many jolly plans in their heads. We 
had scarcely any time during the few following days 
to take our nap in the warm sun or to chase sand- 
peeps. We investigated the grove and river-banks, 
brought eggs and milk from the farmer’s just across 
the little foot-bridge beyond the pines, and rode on 
the train to Oceanview for groceries and molasses 
candy. 

I didn’t enjoy the daily ocean bathing, because I 
could only sit on the beach and bark, and didn’t 

145 


i 


PUP 


find much fun in being sprinkled with water when- 
ever I was caught off guard by the girls. They were 
too venturesome in their swimming, too, and it 
caused me a good deal of anxiety when Tom led 
them so far out in the deep water. 

Neither did I enjoy their canoeing particularly 
well, as I was not allowed to go with them, and 
needs must sit on the shore and get what comfort 
I could out of watching them and playing with 
the boys that were always loafing about. 

One morning I strolled down to the river where 
Tom’s dory and canoe usually lay at moorings by 
the pier. He was teaching the girls to row, and 
they seemed to be having such a jolly time paddling 
about, while I sat mournfully on the bank, that, 
at last, in spite of my aversion to water, I plunged 
desperately in and swam out to them. Tom drove 
me back to the bank, but I whined so pitifully that, 
after a good deal of discussion between him and 
the girls, I was taken in and ordered to lie down 
at Bertha’s feet and keep still. Bertha kept her 
fingers tightly fixed in my collar, but it was a very 
unnecessary precaution. I knew enough to sit 
quietly without being held down like a know-nothing 
puppy. Had I not been to sea? Which was more 
than any one of them could boast of! I knew as 
well as they that my great, bulky body would upset 
the boat if I leaped around as I did on shore. And 
thus it came about that, owing to my good be- 
haviour, henceforth I was included in the party 

146 


PUP 


whenever Tom took the girls out rowing, and the 
delightful twilights spent on the river are among 
the most treasured memories of our summer. 

Bertha and Alice often sang while Tom pulled 
sturdily at the oars, and their sweet voices rang out 
in the quiet evening, and were often answered by 
some friendly chorus from the shore. Meantime, 
under Tom’s painstaking instruction, both became 
quite expert at the oars. Then Tom it was who sat 
lazily back among the cushions, and, with my head 
on his lap, told stories, while, with bared arms now 
brown and muscular from exposure and exercise, 
the girls pulled rhythmically at the oars. Tom 
seemed very proud of his pupils. 

Many a luncheon was carried up-river along with 
books and cushions, and eaten under the shade of 
an overhanging, tree-crowned cliff, after Tom had 
made fast the painter about a straggling root or 
jagged spur of rock. Quite as often, they landed 
in some secluded cove, and whiled away an entire 
afternoon upon the grassy bank, reading aloud and 
nibbling chocolates, while I varied the monotony 
— after the chocolates were eaten — by scaring up 
birds and treeing squirrels that chittered impudently 
down at us from their friendly tree-boles. 

The shingly coves all along the windings of the 
river invited many a landing, and we seldom passed 
“ Indian Spring ” without pulling ashore for a 
drink from its clear, cool, rocky basin. 


147 


PUP 


Tom’s camera was quite as important a feature of 
these expeditions as the books and the bonbon-box. 

At last I had become a devotee of boating. Not 
that I liked actual contact with water any better 
than before. But there was a reassuring sense of 
security here on this peaceful river and on the 
quiet bay. I could swim ashore if necessary, while 
on my ship, with heavy seas surging around on all 
sides and no land in sight, it had been a very 
different matter. I had proven to Tom how im- 
plicitly I was to be trusted to keep still, and here- 
after, whenever I saw him shoulder the oars and 
Bertha and Alice join him on the walk at “ Idle 
Hour ” with rugs and cushions, I had only to bound 
on ahead and be there to welcome them, crouched 
on my blanket in the bow behind the rowlocks, 
with my mouth agape and tongue lolling its most 
complaisant smile. 

By the way, I must not forget to tell you about 
a very laughable affair that happened at the pier 
one afternoon while Tom was fixing something 
about his canoe. Bertha was helping him, while 
Alice and I had been racing up and down the pier 
— racing against each other. A gang of little 
urchins was hanging about as usual, some fishing, 
others throwing sticks into the water for a neigh- 
bour’s dog to plunge after. They had tried many 
times to coax me to jump off, but I simply would 
not. I was ready for a race or any reasonably wild 
sport ashore or on the pier, but swimming for 

148 


PUP 


sticks I vowed sullenly I would not do for their 
amusement. Well, I suppose that they were out of 
patience at last with my perversity, for, as Alice 
and I stood watching Tom and recovering our 
breath for another race, one pert chap — I never 
took much of a fancy to him, anyway — hurtled 
a stick over the water, and then, as it struck with 
a splash, gave me a violent shove over the side of 
the pier and shouted : “Now swim for it, you 
coward ! ” 

I struck the water with a yelp; you see, I had 
been caught so unawares there was absolutely no 
opportunity for me either to resist or to defend 
myself. I had always found the boys good-natured, 
and, of course, never thought them capable of play- 
ing a dog such a dirty trick. Oh, I’ve no doubt it 
was all done in fun; but I was angry all the same, 
for my pride was hurt, and I guess the chap had 
ample occasion to remember Tom’s spunk. 

Of course I had to swim out, and ran dripping 
up. the bank. Tom was about two minutes reach- 
ing my tormentor; then I saw him make a grab 
for the little scamp, and the next minute he had 
dropped him overboard the neatest you ever saw. 
“ Now, you swim for it ! ” Tom shouted, as the boy 
came to the surface, spluttering and spitting, hardly 
realizing yet what had struck him. 

Well, a dog can laugh and not make any great 
noise about it; that’s what I did, as I shook the 
water from my coat and watched my tormentor 

149 


PUP 


paddling and kicking himself shoreward. But as 
for boys, it is always a shout or a shriek or a giggle 
with them and girls, and the wild hurrah that went 
up from the pier at the poor scared and angry little 
chap’s struggles was enough to soothe the wounded 
pride of any reasonable dog. 

By the time Alice and Tom got back to me, we 
were all feeling pretty jolly over the sport. I’m 
sure I wouldn’t mind seeing Tom drop another boy 
overboard — it’s great fun for a dog ! 


150 


PUP 


CHAPTER XVI. 

“ COLLIE ” OF THE FOG - BELL 

It was not until some time later that Tom allowed 
me to go outside the river-mouth with him, although 
he went frequently with his father and John and 
brought home big baskets of cunners and flounders, 
with occasionally a few lobsters, — green, crawly 
things that Mary put into a pot and boiled until 
they came out a beautiful bright red; but, whew! 
— I didn’t like the smell of the things and never 
could be coaxed to eat a bit of them. What queer 
appetites men have! 

But one day, after some deliberation, I was taken 
into the dory. I must confess it was dreadfully 
rough when we left the mouth of the breakwater 
for the open bay. Our dory bobbed about like a 
ball on the swell and cross-currents it met. I was 
a badly frightened dog, and had serious thoughts 
of jumping overboard, swimming for the break- 
water and then clambering back along the rocky 
wall to the shore; but the breakers foamed so 
threateningly about the rocks that I hardly dared 
risk the landing, and so sat trembling in terror at 

151 


PUP 


master’s feet, while Tom and John pulled strong, 
steady strokes at their oars to bring the dory out 
of the treacherous cross-currents, and laughed and 
joked as if but three feet, instead of as many 
fathoms, of water lay beneath them. 

Soon, however, my fears subsided somewhat. It 
was not so “ choppy ” as we went on. I began to 
enjoy riding over the long, gentle swells. I liked 
it far better than lying at anchor while they were 
fishing and bobbing uneasily about, and having 
slimy cunners flopping at my feet in the bottom of 
the dory, pricking my legs and sides with their 
sharp fins. I was very glad, however, that I en- 
dured it so patiently; otherwise, I would not have 
been taken out again, and would have missed mak- 
ing an acquaintance on a subsequent trip which 
gave me unspeakable delight. There are so few 
dogs, you know, with whom a greyhound really 
cares to cultivate a friendship. 

I behaved so admirably that I was allowed to 
go whenever there was room in the dory for me; 
so, when Tom and John planned one morning to 
row master and Mr. Morrison around Lighthouse 
Island, where they could get an unobstructed view 
of the tower and see the ugly reefs at low tide, I 
was allowed to go with them. There were so many 
trees on the little island that only the top of the 
tower with its lantern could be seen above them from 
the cottages on shore. My friends, as well as my- 
self, had all learned to watch for its first gleam of 

152 



Y) 


“A MAGNIFICENT COLLIE SEIZED THE ROPE IN HIS TEETH 





















































































PUP 


light at sundown, and then wait expectantly for the 
huge lantern to revolve and send another red glower 
over the tree-tops and across the bay. But, on 
this occasion, we were not only to see the tower 
and the reefs, but I was to find a new friend under 
most novel and thrilling circumstances. I suppose 
Tom must have known all about it; but he had 
no way of making a greyhound understand, except 
by bringing him out to see for himself. 

We circled a spur of the island that pointed across 
to the opposite shore of the bay where the twin tower 
stood, dividing duty and honours with its mate of 
Lighthouse Island; still farther around we rowed, 
until our dory lay dancing on the waves perilously 
near the jagged rocks that bulwarked the seaward 
shore at the foot of the tower. On the extreme 
edge of the island, between the tower and the sea, 
and near the keeper’s cottage, a huge fog-bell was 
suspended. Several times we had heard its melan- 
choly tones, as the bell moaned in muffled vibrations 
through the dense, white blanket of fog that now 
and -then enveloped our pretty bay like the cloak 
of some malicious spirit of the sea. I had not known 
what it meant — that weird, unearthly voice sound- 
ing across the water. But as we rounded the island 
and approached the reefs, a magnificent collie came 
bounding down to the shore where the bell hung, 
and, after barking frantically at our boat for a 
few minutes, rushed to the big bell, seized the rope 
in his teeth, and, with violent jerks, sent the massive 

153 


PUP 


iron clapper clanging against its sides, until the 
keeper came running down to see what danger was 
threatening. 

He called Collie off and shouted to master ; then 
Tom, making a trumpet of his hands, hallooed back. 
I didn't know just what was said between the men, 
— I was too interested in the dog, — but when 
Collie rushed so excitedly down to the shore, he 
had barked out : “ Keep off ! Keep off ! There are 
dangerous rocks underneath your boat. Go back, 
go back ! Bow, wow, wow ! Go back ! Go back ! ” 
and he would not be pacified until Tom pushed out 
into deeper water. 

“ Hello, friend ! ” I barked back, as soon as I 
could get in my bow-wow. “ You are an uncom- 
monly bright dog; I’d like to make your acquaint- 
ance. Can’t you come over to the mainland to see 
a summer visitor ? ” 

“ No,” answered Collie ; “ I can’t leave home. I 
have to tend the fog-bell. But come over here to 
see me. Tom knows me well; it will be all right. 
I am a proper dog for you to associate with. Can’t 
you come ? ” 

“ I would like to, immensely,” I barked in reply ; 
“ but it’s too tough a swim. Besides, I hate water ! 
I wish Tom would go ashore ! ” 

And presently he did. They made a difficult 
landing on another part of the island, — difficult, for 
the whole of its coast was more or less rock-bound, 


154 


PUP 


— and, while the keeper took the men up to his 
cottage and the tower, I visited with Collie. 

“ You are a wonderful dog, Collie ! ” I said, look- 
ing at him admiringly. “ Lots of dogs do things 

— just every-day things, like watching out for 
thieves and swimming after sticks and nosing out 
rats ; but it takes a most wonderful dog to ring 
a fog-bell and warn people away from these dread- 
ful rocks. I am so glad to know you, Collie ! I 
wish you lived over on the mainland, where we could 
play together, I admire you so much ! I’m really 
a very fine dog myself, and know a fine dog when I 
meet one; and you really are a very superior dog, 
Collie.” 

I put on my most dignified manner because I 
wished my new friend to feel that I was in every 
way worthy the confidence of a noble creature like 
himself, and he responded so graciously to this 
complimentary spirit that my call proved a delight- 
ful one in every way. 

I was sorry when it was time to leave, but Tom 
patted “ Sailor ” — for we learned from the keeper 
that this was Collie’s name — and frolicked a bit 
with him, and assured him I would come again ; 
so we said a reluctant good-bye and pushed off 
for home. 

Tom took me over to Lighthouse Island many 
times during the summer, and Sailor and I became 
very devoted friends. We chased birds and squir- 
rels over the rocks and through the trees, snoozed 

155 


PUP 


in the sun under the wide mouth of the fog-bell, 
and exchanged stories of our various adventures. 
Sailor thought my life was a real fairy-story book. 
Sometimes I feel very like a hero, and am afraid I 
was tempted to swagger a bit in my growing self- 
esteem. 

I told him of the many attempts of my old master 
to regain possession of me, and Sailor urged me 
to stay with him on his island, sure that no one 
would look for me there ; but, fond as I had become 
of Sailor, the thought of Tom and Bertha and 
Alice was too much for me. I am sure I would 
not have been contented long, either, for I did not 
like swimming, and chasing birds gets tiresome after 
a while. As for the fog-bell — that was Sailor’s 
business. I knew, also, that I had pretty nearly 
reached the end of my stories, and Sailor’s life 
had not been a varied one, — j ust watching out for 
careless lobster-dories and inexperienced pleasure- 
boats, — so he was getting rather short of material 
for exciting tales, as well as myself. “ No,” I 
thought, “ it were better to run the risk of the old 
master’s plots against me, than to bury myself on a 
little isolated island.” 

“ No, Sailor, your little tree-clad, rock-bound 
island is charming, and you have been a most de- 
lightful companion, but I have a dog’s duty toward 
those who have been kind to me ; besides, I am really 
afraid I might be homesick. However, I shall 


156 


PUP 


continue to visit you often, Sailor, you may be sure. 
Good-bye, old fellow ! ” 

Bertha and Alice never accompanied Tom and 
me on these trips. The landing was so rocky and 
difficult, I suppose he did not consider it safe for 
girls; but he took his camera one day, and, while 
Sailor rang the bell for him, — just as he rang it 
that first day to warn us off the rocks, — Tom took 
his picture. 

On the mainland I had made several dog friends 
also, that I occasionally called upon, although, for 
the most part, they were shut indoors or led about in 
leash. One of Tom’s chums had two sleek little 
Boston terriers, quite young, hardly past puppy- 
hood. Fanny was a dear little brindled creature, 
with neatly trimmed ears and stubby tail, frolic- 
some and sweet-tempered; her sister, whose name 
I really cannot remember, was too shy for me to 
have much fun with, so I paid little attention to 
her. But Fanny — well, she was up to all manner 
of pranks with me ! I was so fond of her, with 
her coquettish little airs and saucy yappings, that 
I never resented anything she did, although she 
spoiled many a nice nap which I had stretched 
myself out to enjoy. 

Perhaps another reason why I had no heart to 
quarrel with her for her teasing impudence was 
because I was about all the chance at fun she got, 
anyway. She was either shut in the house or taken 
out under somebody’s care and never allowed her 

157 


PUP 


freedom, as I was. I felt sorry for her many times. 
Fanny told me she was a valuable dog; I sup- 
pose that accounts for it, for such dogs are so often 
stolen. 

There was another dog — a big, brindled, ugly- 
mouthed bulldog — in the same house with Fanny, 
who wore a muzzle whenever he was led out for 
exercise. He hailed me from the window one day, 
as I was trotting by with a bone : 

“ Bow-wow ! Hello, you long-legged fellow ! 
What’s that in your mouth ? ” 

“ Well, friend, you are either blind or impudent 
— and rather impudent, anyway — bow-wow! But 
since you seem to be a prisoner for some reason, 
and therefore excusable for being a bit crusty of 
temper, why, I don’t mind telling you — confi- 
dentially — that it’s a bone ! ” 

I hate to be sarcastic, but it is necessary at 
times. 

“ Bone ? Woof ! I get meat ! ” 

“ Well,” I replied, “ Fm not sure you deserve 
such fine fare, my surly friend. I’ve seen you out 
walking, and I find you are not to be trusted, even 
in leash, without a muzzle. Would you mind tell- 
ing me what offence you have been guilty of ? There 
seems to be no good reason why you should be 
impudent and surly with me. I am a dog — an 
English greyhound, if you please — who minds his 
own business and leaves others to do the same, if 
they will. But now that I have answered your 

158 


PUP 


question, which, I must confess, was put in rude 
fashion and ungracious spirit, perhaps you will 
agree that I have earned the right to question you 
a bit? ” 

“ Bow-wow ! Woof ! I don’t know that it’s any 
of your business if I choose to wear a muzzle when 
I go out to walk! Are you envious of my collar, 
too? It is three times as broad as yours, and 
studded all over with nails ! And as for my offence, 
as you choose to call it, I see plainly some one has 
been telling stories about me. Ur-r-ugh! ” 

“ Oh, well, friend, if you are disposed to be so 
belligerent as this, why, good-bye! You hailed me, 
and I tried to be civil, but I really have no time 
to waste upon an ill-natured brute like you. Good 
luck to you till you feel better-natured ! Wow-wow- 
wow ! ” 

I picked up my bone and started on. 

“ Bow-wow ! Hold on there, friend! Perhaps 
I’ve been a little hasty; come back and let’s have 
a better understanding. To tell the truth, I do 
feel cross.” 

“ All right,” I laughed, dropping my bone again 
and looking back. “ I must confess your face did 
wear a most discouraging scowl, and your voice 
was far from melodious and amiable; but we’ll let 
that all pass, if you wish. Now, what can I do for 
you ? Are you in any special trouble ? ” 

“ I want my liberty ! ” he snarled. “ They shut 
me up in this room, and when I go out I can’t go 

159 


PUP 


as other dogs go — free and at my pleasure. What 
kind of treatment do you call that? Ur-r-r-ugh!” 

“ Oh, well, that depends,” I barked back. “ I’ve 
been treated as badly as that myself, and quite un- 
deservedly; but you refused to answer my ques- 
tion, — or, rather, evaded it, which amounts to the 
same thing, — when I asked what you had done 
to deserve this punishment, so I can’t tell you what 
opinion I have about it. As a matter of fact, 
nobody has been telling me stories about you ; I 
never even heard of you. But, really, friend Bull, 
if you will pardon me for saying it, your voice and 
manner were both so offensive when you hailed 
me that I at once set you down as a dog that needed 
discipline, and concluded you were wearing muz- 
zle and deprived of liberty because you had been 
guilty of some outrageous conduct. Am I not 
right ? ” 

“ I don’t think a dog should be bothered by chil- 
dren about the house,” replied Bull, sullenly. “ They 
are a nuisance. And boys ought not to throw 
stones, and men have no right to kick a dog in 
the haunches and yell at him as if he had no 
feelings. Do you think I should be treated like 
that?” 

“ Well, no, perhaps not,” I replied, candidly ; “ but 
I think when Mistress has a baby come to visit her 
I ought to let it tumble over me and pull my tail 
and hug and pat me, if it amuses the baby. I 
know it doesn’t mean to hurt me, even if it happens 

160 


PUP 


to do so once in a while. As for boys and rocks — 
for what are legs given a dog? Huh! Woof! I 
reckon I can distance both, before the second rock 
gets a chance at my ribs! Now, you seem de- 
termined to evade a direct confession, but I’m 
willing to wager my bone, Bull, — and it’s a sweet, 
juicy bone, too, — Mary’s no stingy cook, — I bet 
my dinner that biting is your ugly trait. Am I 
right, Bull?” 

“ Bite ? Of course I bite ! Do you suppose I’ll 
show the white feather and run ? Why, Greyhound, 
I’m a blue-ribbon dog! I’m registered! I’m 
blooded ! Run, indeed ! ” 

“ Oh, well, we won’t argue that point. I can see 
you are a fine-bred dog respecting all points save 
disposition. You are a beautiful brindle ; your tail 
is the regulation size; your ears are exquisitely 
cropped; your collar is quite the up-to-date neck- 
gear for a ‘ high-toned,’ * registered,’ ‘ blue-rib- 
boned ’ bulldog ; but the least said regarding your 
temper the better, since I do not care to pay nasty 
compliments. But, coward or not, I choose to 
run from my petty annoyances and keep my liberty. 
If you prefer to bite, and be muzzled, and kept 
prisoner — that’s your affair. But take my advice, 
Bull, — just smooth out that ugly scowl of yours 
and give a friendly hello to people, and you’ll find 
the world will use you all right as a rule. Little 
Fanny has the same master that you have, and she 
leaps all over him and half-smothers him with 
161 


PUP 


kisses. Just look inside yourself, Bull, and you’ll 
find that your own nasty temper is the cause of 
all your trouble.” 

And with that I left him. 


162 


PUP 


CHAPTER XVII. 

STRAINED RELATIONS 

It is my opinion that country dogs are much 
more sensible and lead a more useful life than dogs 
of the city. For instance, there was a ragged-haired 
shepherd over behind the pines on a little farm 
where Tom went for milk and eggs. Not much 
to look at was Shepherd, — ugly and unkempt; 
but he knew by the sun, or in some mysterious way, 
just when the master’s cows were wanted, and, 
prompt as the sun itself when it dropped behind the 
hills yonder, he trotted off to the pasture and re- 
turned with the whole herd. He and the cows 
appeared on the most friendly terms, too. He 
trotted amongst them with his mouth wide open, 
laughing, and sniffed affectionately as old “ White- 
face ” put her nose down to rub at his side. He 
squatted very contentedly on his haunches to watch 
Farmer at the milking, nor considered his day’s 
duties completed until he had followed the brim- 
ming, frothing pails into the cellar dairy and then 
returned to drive the pair of prating guinea-hens 
to their roost. 

163 


PUP 


“ Go back ! Go back ! ” clamoured the indignant 
hens. 

“ Bow-wow ! Scoot for your roost ! ” laughed 
Shepherd, good-naturedly, close at their tails. 

I coaxed hard to go to the pasture with him one 
night, but he obstinately refused my company. 

Shepherd doesn’t understand a greyhound, al- 
though so wise in other matters. He thought, 
because I have such long legs and chase birds and 
cats and things, that I hadn’t sense enough to drive 
cows home. I don’t believe in being so slow as 
Shepherd is, anyway; it takes too long to get any- 
where if you let cows walk all the way. I told him 
so plainly, and told him, if I were herding cows, I 
would hurry them up a bit, make them run and get 
a little fun out of it myself. Why, cows would 
enjoy a good race if they once tried it, instead 
of plodding along in such stolid, indifferent fashion ! 
But Shepherd calmly told me that he was expe- 
rienced in such matters as cows and sheep, and 
knew cows were not to be hurried, and said he 
positively would not trust me. I felt quite injured 
in my feelings, until Shepherd hastened to say that 
he was sure I meant well, but that I was too sport- 
ive, — that I was often thoughtless, and he was 
afraid I would forget instructions and Farmer would 
blame him. Of course, I forgave Shepherd at once, 
although I went home somewhat disappointed. 

Then there was another country dog in the neigh- 
bourhood of Bayside, — Setter. 


164 


PUP 


Ted was his master, and Ted was Tom’s boy 
chum during the summer, so I saw a good deal 
of Setter. He hunted birds, too, but I can’t see 
much fun in hunting his way. Mr. Ross and Tom 
often went out over the marshes with guns, and took 
Setter along with them. I didn’t like a gun very 
well, — the noise irritated my nerves, — so I usually 
stayed with the girls or rode over to Oceanview with 
the boys in the baggage-car, or found something to 
do to while away the time until their return. But 
Setter appeared to like it better than any sport I 
could give him ; and, in fact, he was more than a 
companion for Tom and his father. He found many 
a flock of birds in the rank marsh-grass, where 
master could not see them, and, with nose to the 
ground, would point directly where master was to 
shoot. Now, idle, shiftless city dogs can’t do such 
things; that is why I so thoroughly approve of 
country dogs and enjoy their society so much better. 

Setter acted rather hatefully toward me one day, 
though, and I insinuated very plainly that I con- 
sidered myself every whit as smart as himself, only 
he had never had the opportunity of seeing me on 
serious duty. 

It happened in this way: I went out on the 
marshes with them one morning, thinking perhaps 
I wouldn’t mind so much just once if the guns did 
make my nerves tingle. We had been tramping 
along through the tall grass for some time, when, 
a little in the distance, we saw a flock of birds settle 

165 


PUP 


to the ground. “ Here’s a chance for some sport ! ” 
thought I, and rushed recklessly ahead and leaped 
into their midst, barking loudly, and chased them 
away into trees and other hiding-places. 

Well, supposing Setter didn’t like it — that was 
no excuse for his showing such abominable temper. 

“You fool dog! You’ve scattered my quarry!” 
he barked, angrily. “ Now, what good are you to 
your master, anyhow ? ” 

“ See here, Setter,” I retorted, “ you’re fine on 
a bird-hunt, I’ll allow, but what about rabbits ? ” 

“ Rabbits ! ” he snarled, contemptuously. “ I 
don’t believe you would know a rabbit if you were 
to see one — you poor, ignorant, city upstart ! ” 

“ Setter, you’re in a beastly temper. I never for- 
get my breeding and show such a slum disposition 
as you are displaying, whatever my other faults may 
be. As for rabbits, you follow me out on the dunes 
by the woods some day and I’ll show you a trick 
worth two of this nosing out a covey of little marsh- 
birds.” 

Well, I must confess I deserved Setter’s repri- 
mand, although he might have given it in somewhat 
gentler fashion, and, knowing I had made a big 
blunder, I dropped my tail humbly when master 
and Tom came up. I had spoiled their morning 
bag; but it proved a good lesson for me. I was 
more careful in the future when I went with them, 
and watched Setter’s movements closely, and kept 
his caution in mind. 


166 


PUP 


I remembered Setter’s taunts, though, on the day 
of my clumsy performance at the bird-hunt; they 
rankled. We happened to be wandering about the 
farm garden a few days later, and, luckily for my 
reputation’s sake, scared up a rabbit from his vege- 
tarian feast. I saw him first and barked sharply: 

“ Look, Setter, see me do it ! ” and no sooner 
had the creature started for the woods in frightened 
leaps than I was in full chase behind. With one 
toss of my nose I threw the little beast into the 
air, and, as he came down, caught him in my jaws; 
then, with one good shake, I laid jack-rabbit upon 
the ground, dead as any rat. 

“ Setter,” I admonished him, “ hereafter do not 
judge a dog by the one mistake he makes, but give 
him another chance. Do you know what master’s 
big book says about English greyhounds? Well, 
Tom read from it to the girls one day, and it said : 
‘ English greyhounds are unrivalled in speed, beauty, 
and docility, and are much used in the chase of the 
hare.’ ” 

Setter looked penitent, and, I think, after that, 
held me in much higher esteem. It is necessary to 
prove your assertions sometimes in order to con- 
vince an oversmart dog. 

There came a day when Mr. Morrison and mas- 
ter and John went off in the train. Somehow, I 
felt that this was not one of their accustomed trips 
to the post-office or market, because on those occa- 
sions there was no luggage. Now, each one car- 

167 


PUP 


ried a suit-case and overcoat and umbrella, and 
there was a great ado of kissing and hand-shaking 
and good-byes. 

When I went up the steps of the cottage, Mary 
was peeking around the corner, shaking her hand- 
kerchief to John, who stood on the rear platform 
as the train crawled away over the dunes with a 
great show of puffing, and leaving its trail of smoke 
behind. I followed her into the house, where she 
began to wipe her eyes and seemed to feel so badly 
it quite upset me. 

“ Now, Mary,” I said, as I laid my head on her 
lap and looked up into the teary face, “ this is 
all very sad, I admit, having every man go off; 
but we have Tom left, and you have Greyhound, 
Mary. Can’t you cheer up now, my old friend? I 
really feel very sorry for you, Mary, even if you 
have monopolized John all these days.” 

Mary patted me and wiped her face and gave me 
an extra bone; but, really, I found every one so 
inexpressibly dull and sober, I began to feel the 
blues myself, and thought the best thing for a 
greyhound to do was to hunt up Setter and go 
for a bit of livelier scenery somewhere until folks 
got jolly again. People act on a dog’s nerves some- 
times, and the whole family — yes, both families 
— got on mine that day. 

“ Come on, Setter ! Take your everlasting nose 
out of the ground for once,” I said, out of all 
patience with everything, “ and look up into the 

168 


PUP 


blue sky and chase crows with me. Play my way 
this morning; I’m in no mood for your fashion of 
fun. Come off to the marshes ! ” 

“All right, Greyhound. But, look here, friend, 
do you expect me to keep pace with those long 
legs of yours ? ” 

“ Never mind my gait/’ I answered, “ trot along 
your own pace, and when I get too far ahead I’ll 
come back ! ” and off I bounded. 

“ Greyhound ! Greyhound ! Bow-wow-wow ! 
Look out for the marshes ; there are bad holes ! ” 

“ Never fear ! Ta-ta ! Bow-wow ! ” I barked 
back, and, with nose in the air and yelps of exal- 
tation, I bounded in great free leaps over the soft 
sod and through the sea-grass shoulder-high, with 
the two big black crows flying over my head and 
cawing in defiance of my vain efforts. At any rate, 
if I did not catch them, — and perhaps I would not, 
for I had chased crows a hundred times without 
ever yet bringing one to earth, — “ At any rate,” 
thought I, “ there’s ‘ piles of fun in it,’ as Tom 
would say.” Blindly I rushed on, with my nose 
in the air, barking loudly in sheer joy of the sport, 
feeling that I was clearing the tall, thick grass in 
magnificent bounds, as the crows flew higher and 
cawed exasperatingly. 

Suddenly I landed shoulder-deep in the middle 
of a black, watery slough left by the ebb-tide. Mud, 
mire, and slime were my unlucky portion. Sur- 
prised and frightened, I struggled for the bank; 

169 


PUP 


my feet could find no secure footing in the mud 
beneath them, and, as I thrust my fore paws upon 
the overhanging turf in an attempt to pull myself 
out, it crumbled beneath my weight and left me 
wallowing. I yelped for aid. Setter was long com- 
ing, for I had left him far behind in my excited 
chase. 

At last, when my strength was well-nigh ex- 
hausted in desperate struggles to throw my great 
hulk from the mire that held me in its grip, I 
succeeded in reaching solid ground once more, and 
dropped, panting, upon the grass. The crows cawed 
in derision from the tree-tops. Setter came up. 

An insulted greyhound can’t reply in a very dig- 
nified way when he is such an abject-looking wretch 
as I was, and so, when Setter remarked, quite loftily, 
“ A dog that keeps his nose to the ground instead 
of always in the air is sure to escape marsh-pots, 
at least,” I barked back savagely that, unless he 
could think of something agreeable to say, his room 
was better than his company! 

Oh, I was in a savage mood ! 

I felt the malicious sting of Setter’s next remark. 

“Well, I don’t see, Greyhound, but that you’ll 
have to go in swimming now, whether you like it 
or not. Your coat is a beastly sight, and the odour 
— whew ! Come on down to the shore.” 

“ Mind your own affairs, Setter ! ” I growled 
back. “ I’m not going into your old ocean ; I’m 
going home and let Tom wash me off.” And, 

170 


PUP 


in no very amiable frame of mind, we two turned 
toward the cottage. 

We had quarrelled, — seriously quarrelled, — and 
that didn’t make a greyhound feel any more cheer- 
ful. I suggested to Setter that perhaps if he went 
home it would be as agreeable to both, but I think 
Setter began to feel sorry for everything that had 
happened, while I — how do you think my feelings 
could change very much in that short time, wet, 
coated with black mud, humiliated, and angered as 
I had been? 

But, greatly to the credit of Setter, he refused 
to listen to my suggestion. He wouldn’t leave me 
in my trouble, and, because of his loyalty and pen- 
itence, I soon found my feelings softening toward 
my old friend. I know he sincerely pitied me in 
my sorry plight. 

It was pretty hard to forgive and forget every- 
thing all at once, but the feeling that had arisen 
between us subsided more and more as we trotted 
along, until, when we approached the pine-grove 
behind Tom’s cottage, we were so far reestablished 
on the old friendly footing that we began to see 
the funny side of the whole affair, and, had I not 
been so disreputably dirty, we would have yet made 
a day’s tramp of it through the woods. 

These pines had been my daily delight. Freed 
from saplings and shrubbery, except now and then 
a sweet-bay bush, they stretched away for many 
rods before they merged into the dense forest-tangle. 

171 


PUP 


The trunks of the trees are gnarled and crooked, 
their branches droop and straggle, — some sky- 
ward, some lying low upon the ground, — their 
entire symmetry is uncouth, their round, prickly 
cones liable to fall upon a dog’s nose with a sharp 
pat in the midst of his most enchanting day-dreams. 
Nevertheless, a dog loves this grove, not alone for 
the picturesque old trees and cool breezes that 
sough through their branches, but for the long 
green grasses that push up through the carpet of 
brown needles and are so cool to rest upon in a 
hot summer’s day, or to roll in when one’s coat is 
dusty from a run up the country road. 

From the first, this pinery conjured up delightful 
visions of strolls and naps, and refreshing shade 
and balsamy odours, — all of which had become a 
part of my daily life at Bayside. 

Others, as well as a dog, had discovered the 
charm of this quiet retreat, and, as Setter and I 
halted a moment in the shade, a whiff of food came 
to our nostrils. “ Come on, Setter,” I suggested ; 
“ I think Tom and the girls must be having luncheon 
over here under the trees.” 

So we nosed along the trail of the odour, — or, 
rather, Setter did, for a greyhound is not very 
keen on the trail, you know, his sense of smell 
being so deficient, — and found a feast of good 
things spread under a distant tree. Nobody was 
near ; that was strange ! But Setter said : “ Since 
there is no one here to help us, of course we may 

172 


PUP 


help ourselves,” and, while I had some doubts about 
it, the excitement of the morning had sharpened 
my appetite until my stomach urged me to offer 
no opposition to Setter ; so I merely replied, “ Cer- 
tainly ! ” and fell upon a plate of sandwiches. 

“ I don’t seem to find any bones,” complained 
Setter. 

“ Oh, never mind bones ; take a sandwich, and 
don’t quarrel with a providential feast like this,” 
I answered. 

I wondered where Tom and the girls were gone. 
It was queer for them to go off and leave a fine 
luncheon where any dog could get it. Of course, 
it was all right for me to help myself and also 
share with Setter, for I was Greyhound, with whom 
they always divided their good things; but then, 
it might as likely have been any stray dog. 

“ Setter, you and I are mighty lucky — ” Before 
I could finish my remark, I looked up to see some 
people running toward us waving their arms and 
shouting in a very boisterous manner, and, as it 
was neither Tom nor the girls, I thought perhaps 
we would better be going home. 

“ Setter, I think you and I would better take 
our sandwiches down to the house and finish our 
luncheon there. These people may make trouble 
for us.” 

My conscience didn’t feel quite clear about it, but 
I was too hungry to continue the argument with 
myself, and, as Setter said nothing against the plan, 

173 


PUP 


we seized all we could carry in our jaws and trotted 
off home. 

“ Those were mighty tasty sandwiches, Grey- 
hound ! ” remarked Setter, as we lay on the piazza 
licking our chops, after the last crumb had been 
lapped up from the floor underneath our jowls. 


174 


PUP 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE MYSTERY OF THE TEMPEST 

I was surprised to find how greatly things at 
the country and seashore differed from the same 
objects one is accustomed to see in the city. 

For instance, country chickens wear feathers and 
run about the farmyards, while in the city they 
are as naked as some of the little urchins that 
went in swimming up-river. Then blueberries, that 
Joe the city grocery-man brought to Mary in boxes, 
grow on bushes in a pasture back of the grove; 
and — well, lots of things that puzzled a greyhound 
to account for. I suppose this queer difference in 
things is owing to the peculiar habits of men, who 
seem to know how to have everything just the way 
they wish it to be. 

I don’t know that I would have discovered this 
peculiar trait blueberries possess of growing on 
bushes in a country pasture, if Bertha had not run 
across a big patch the day we went across to the 
farmer’s wood-lot to get brush for our bonfire. We 
had been gathering driftwood for several days, for 
this bonfire was to outshine any that ever before 

175 


PUP 


had blazed on Bayside beach, and, as Ted was as 
deep in the scheme as Tom and the girls, his father 
gave us permission to gather all the brush we 
wanted from his wood-lot. The boys made many 
trips, and Bertha and Alice went along with us 
for the fun of helping. It was on one of these trips 
that Bertha discovered the blueberry-patch. 

Isn’t it queer how one circumstance will cause 
another to happen ! Now, if Bertha had not stum- 
bled upon that patch of blueberry-bushes, heavy 
with clusters of the little blue plums, why, I wouldn’t 
have had this adventure to relate. 

There were several things about the pasture that 
I had particularly noticed in our various trips after 
brush: one was a flock of sheep grazing over 
beyond a little hillock. This attracted my atten- 
tion because it reminded me of the big flock I used 
to see in Franklin Park, when I went driving in 
the carriage with Mistress. Then another thing that 
interested me was a number of big rocks, because 
Alice and I stopped on almost every trip to play 
tag around them, while Bertha, perched on top of 
a big one, laughed at our pranks. 

But when we came to the blueberry-patch, al- 
though the fruit was so plentiful and tempting, the 
bonfire was of so much greater importance that the 
boys and girls stopped to gather only a few mouth- 
fuls as we went along. The next day, however, 
Bertha and Alice took each a pail and, calling me 


176 


PUP 


away from a morning snooze on the piazza, started 
off after blueberries. 

How nice it is that girls always want a dog to 
have some, too, whenever they get anything good 
to eat. And, if there is anything I like better than 
candy and pop-corn, it is blueberries. I knew 
nothing about the taste until that morning. They 
were pretty enough to look at and nothing to the 
smell, but the girls kept dropping one juicy berry 
after another into my mouth, until I really believe 
I enjoyed blueberries better than pop-corn. They 
were so refreshing on a warm morning! 

But the girls couldn’t spend all the time drop- 
ping blueberries into a dog’s mouth, however much 
I suppose they would like to do so, and after a time 
I was left to amuse myself. After lying around 
a while, with nothing to do except to snap at a 
fly now and then that buzzed at my ears or tickled 
my nose, I went off into the woods to hunt squirrels 
till the girls were ready to go home. 

I really can’t explain why squirrel-hunting is such 
fun, for I never could catch one of the little rascals, 
although I’ve chased them from tree to tree and 
barked at them for hours. They don’t play fairly. 
Instead of running along the ground, they leap from 
tree to tree, and of course dogs can’t climb trees 
after them — I wonder why they can’t. Being 
unable to climb trees really gives us no fair ad- 
vantage with cats and squirrels. However, I like 
to tantalize them. These country squirrels are so 

17T 


PUP 


different from the squirrels on Boston Common, 
too! I thought at first they were some new kind 
of rat or mouse, and thought it funny that they 
should be climbing trees, for I never had known of 
a rat or mouse climbing a tree in all my experience 
with them. 

These squirrels that I found in the woods around 
Bayside were all little red fellows, scarcely larger 
than a mouse. They are spunky little creatures, 
nevertheless, and Fve often wished I could know 
what they were saying when they ran down the 
tree-trunk so near me and chittered back at my 
bark. I have always been looking for one to fall ; 
and so that afternoon, while I sat at the foot of 
a big tree, waiting expectantly for a saucy little 
fellow to lose his foothold and tumble to the ground, 
— for he was scolding so angrily I felt sure in his 
excitement he would slip and fall, — I heard the 
girls scream. I listened; I heard it again, and 
still again. It didn’t seem exactly like a good-time 
shriek; there seemed to be a note of alarm in it, 
and I thought I’d better leave my squirrel and see 
what it meant. 

As I came out of the woods into the open blue- 
berry-patch, I found Bertha and Alice perched on 
one of the big flat rocks and the flock of sheep 
gathered about it, some grazing, some looking won- 
deringly around. 

“Well, what silly girls,” I thought, “to scream 
at a few harmless sheep ! Just see them run when 

178 


PUP 


a dog comes around! Why, they are a bunch of 
big cowards!” And I trotted out toward them, 
laughing and confident. 

To be sure, most of them did scatter for a little 
distance, but one surly old fellow, with long, curling 
horns, stood his ground near the rock and looked 
wickedly at the girls. 

“ Bow-wow ! ” I barked, and started after the 
impudent creature. 

Girls are awfully contradictory. If they were 
so scared they had to climb a rock, why, in the 
name of common sense, didn’t they let me chase 
that saucy fellow away, instead of ordering me in 
such severe tones to let him alone and get up on 
the rock beside them? I don’t understand it even 
now. 

Alice grasped my collar, and whenever I made an 
attempt to leap down at the ugly brute, held me 
closer, and both she and Bertha scolded me severely. 
There the creature stood, stamping his fore foot 
and shaking his head at us, and I, a spunky grey- 
hound, forced to sit on a rock and endure his 
bravado! " Wo-o-o-ow!” Didn’t those girls know 
I could grasp his throat with my jaws and kill 
him as easily as I would a rat, and then they could 
get down safely? 

Girls are so queer! They squeal at the sight of 
a mouse and climb rocks to get out of the way 
of an old ram, and then think a dog is just as 


179 


PUP 


big a scarecat as themselves. Really, it was most 
exasperating ! 

I think they saw that I was losing my patience 
and needed conciliating, for they fed me blueberries 
and laughed, and hallooed “ Boo ! ” at the ram, who, 
apparently satisfied that he had all of us well 
“treed,” turned to his grazing again. 

After a time, the girls decided we could jump 
down and run for it, hoping to reach the shelter 
of the woods before he should turn and discover 
us ; so we crept quietly down and took to our legs. 
We got away all right, but in our haste Alice tripped 
over a stick or something, and fell headlong amongst 
the bushes and spilled all her berries. The girls 
laughed over it as a good joke, so I think they 
couldn’t have felt very badly. Of course we 
couldn’t stop to gather up spilled blueberries, with 
a dangerous brute like that old fellow so near; so 
we hurried away through the woods, — Alice swing- 
ing her empty pail, and all of us laughing until we 
actually cried. I don’t believe the girls went blue- 
berrying again that summer; at all events, if they 
did, they never took me along. 

I told Shepherd about our exploit one day, and 
he said that he was surprised that a dog of my 
intelligence should think of killing a sheep. Didn’t 
I know, he asked, that dogs in the country were 
shot for sheep-killing? 

“Woof!” I answered, disgusted. 

Shepherd seemed to know a great deal about 

180 


PUP 


animals and what must be done to manage them, 
and so I took his advice and didn’t molest the flock 
of sheep during the summer. 

When we returned to the cottage from our blue- 
berry expedition, we found Tom and Ted skinning 
cunners at the stable door. It then occurred to me 
for the first time that I had seen nothing of the 
boys since breakfast ; they had been cunner-fishing, 
instead of gathering brush. 

Immediately after luncheon, they started for the 
wood-lot again, but, as the girls had told them about 
the morning’s adventure with the sheep, we were 
left behind. I was quite disgusted. If girls choose 
to make a great fuss over a vicious old ram, that 
is their affair; but they knew well enough I was 
not afraid, and they had no right to have me left 
at home. I could protect myself and the boys, too, 
and I would have handled that old sheep in the 
morning as easily as I do a rat or a rabbit, if they 
had only let me alone! Neither did the boys un- 
derstand how brave a greyhound is, and so, as 
I said before, I was left at home. 

The girls were dreadfully stupid that afternoon. 
They lay around in the hammocks, and read and 
took a nap and hardly spoke, until I became tired 
of the piazza. 

I yawned and stretched, in sheer weariness of 
inaction and the unbroken silence. I got up from 
where I lay and went down over the cottage steps 
and stood for a few minutes looking around to see 

181 


PUP 


if there were anything going on to interest a grey- 
hound. There seemed to be no gulls or crows to 
chase just at that moment, and, really, I didn’t 
seem to feel in the mood myself for a race. The 
languor of the afternoon had its hold upon me, too. 
But there was a bone buried at the foot of a pine 
yonder on the dunes, and I decided I would go 
over and gnaw at that for a while. It would sharpen 
my teeth and aid digestion and serve to while away 
a stupid hour. 

After I was done with the bone, I buried it again 
for future use, and lay squatted underneath the tree 
with my nose between my paws, to ponder over 
things in general. I felt comfortable and contented ; 
the world was a pleasant playground. Nothing 
troubled me just at present, except now and then 
a fly, that I snapped up so quickly he had time 
neither to enjoy his anticipated feast nor to regret 
his rashness. I was too entirely satisfied with con- 
ditions to regret Newfoundland or care about my 
ancestors and kindred, and my old master had again 
become to me an obscure and forgotten dream. 

An old crow flew, cawing, over my tree to a tall 
hemlock yonder that held his empty nest in its 
topmost branches. I was glad to see the crow 
in the sky, for there seemed to be no life on all 
the wide dunes except this sable bird and myself, 
and I did not care to chase the sole companion of 
my day-dreaming out of sight; but I inwardly re- 
solved that some day I would bark at his nest in 

182 


PUP 


the hemlock. There were no sails on the bay ; that 
looked deserted, too. The lone pine under which 
I lay might have been left behind when, in the 
sapling age, its companions took up their sturdy 
march to the mountains ; at all events, there it stood, 
as solitary as myself, the forlorn crow, and the 
boatless bay. 

At last the silence began to get upon my nerves. 
I arose to my feet and looked toward the grove — 
not a limb swayed; I looked up into the branches 
overhead — not a green needle on my tree quivered. 
A peculiar silence was all about me. I lifted my nose 
and sniffed. There was something in the air that 
portended danger. The sky looked dull and brassy, 
and my nerves and nostrils quivered under some 
subtile atmosphere. An ominous rumble moved 
along the horizon behind the grove; it was neither 
the passing of heavy teams, such as jolt along city 
pavements, nor the train. 

After a perplexed look around upon the myste- 
rious aspect of sky and forest and sea, I turned 
homeward filled with forebodings of evil. 

By the time I reached the cottage the sky had 
become black and threatening, and darkness was 
fast settling over the place. The rumbling became 
louder and nearer, and flashes of vivid light darted 
through the sky and played about the tree-tops over 
the grove. Great drops of rain began to sprinkle 
the walk and patter upon the roof of the piazza, 
and the wind, which, at last, had broken the un- 

183 


PUP 


canny stillness of the place, came in gusts and 
swayed the supple pines relentlessly, wresting away 
dead limbs and scattering cones. 

I followed Mistress and the girls into the house. 
I could not understand what all this terrible mani- 
festation portended. I crept whining to Bertha 
and laid my nose across her knee and looked mourn- 
fully up into her face. My nerves quivered as each 
blinding flash pierced the sky and dropped with a 
deafening crash into the water. 

At last I could endure it no longer. With a 
howl I rushed out-of-doors and took refuge in 
Tom’s dark room underneath the house, where he 
worked at his picture-making, and where, at least, 
those terrifying flashes of lightning would not reach 
me, even if the horrible roar of thunder could not 
be shut out. 

I wonder who got up that dreadful storm.. It 
seems to me men might provide more agreeable 
entertainment for a dog than that ! For my part, I 
think it cruelty to animals — especially to a well- 
disposed greyhound ! 


184 



WATCHING TOM OFF ON A CRUISE 





PUP 


CHAPTER XIX. 

KIDNAPPED 

We stood on the pier one day, watching Tom 
off on a cruise to the fishing-grounds. 

Ah, these were sorry trips to a greyhound, when 
he was left behind! For it meant days of loneli- 
ness before Tom would return. Besides, that lunch- 
basket, as I sniffed around it, suggested such a 
store of good things that Tom was accustomed to 
share with me on occasions of picnics and the like 
that I felt quite disconsolate when I realized I was 
to be deprived of my rightful portion of the feast. 

There were sandwiches — I smelled them — 
and gingerbread over in the other end of the basket, 
— I smelled that, too, — and I knew from past ex- 
perience there was a bottle of milk and crackers, 
and, of course, a lot of things besides that a dog 
doesn't eat. Many odours issued from that lunch- 
basket, all mixed up in a tantalizing whole. 

I whined and coaxed and hoped Tom would 
relent at the last moment when he saw my distress 
of mind, but all my wheedling and fawning was of 
no avail. When he put his lunch-basket and oil- 

185 


PUP 


skins into the dory and pushed off toward the 
schooner in the channel, I tried to leap aboard, but 
missed my footing and slipped into the water, and 
Tom ordered me back to the shore. Frustrated, I 
stood upon the sand, moody and sullen, after Tom 
sailed away, while Bertha and Alice sat on the 
river-bank and waved their handkerchiefs to the 
departing schooner, until it swung around the nose 
of the long breakwater and put toward the open 
sea. They must have felt sorry, too, for they liked 
to go sailing with Tom, and they liked the good 
things he carried away in his lunch-basket as well 
as a dog did. 

But we couldn’t sit on the sand and mourn all 
the time Tom was to be gone, so all three walked 
forlornly up the bank to the station and waited for 
the train to come in. 

A little boy tried to play with me, but I didn’t 
care much about little boys just then; I was too 
downcast over Tom and the lunch-basket. Bertha 
bought some candy, which partially consoled me for 
my disappointment, although, after eating it, I went 
to the door and looked wistfully out to the island 
where I had caught the last glimpse of the white 
sails of Tom’s schooner. The girls gave some of 
the candy to the boy. That was all right; I didn’t 
mind the little chap having candy, for perhaps he 
was feeling sorry, too. These things do give one 
such dreadful feelings all over! More comfort 
came to me in the shape of a ride to Oceanview 

186 


PUP 


when the train returned. This had ever been a 
favourite trip of mine, for at Oceanview there was 
a hard, white beach, so broad and long a greyhound 
might race back and forth for hours before the 
great green waves came rolling in upon him. 

At Oceanview the railway terminated. Many 
trains each day from other parts poured their car- 
loads of people into the station, where we often 
strolled about watching the gay throng coming and 
going. I saw many a high-bred dog there on these 
days when I went over with the girls or my other 
friends, the train-boys. There were poodles and 
terriers and pugs, and one day I ran across a 
dachshund. 

“ Well, ’pon my word, friend,” I laughed, good- 
naturedly, “ somebody has stretched you out ridic- 
ulously long! Do you like it? Say! How long 
does it take you to turn a corner? I shouldn’t think 
you would know when you had pulled all of your- 
self around without looking back to see. It’s a 
great pity they haven’t given you a little more length 
of legs and less of body. But then, I suppose you 
are considered a beauty in the country where dachs- 
hunds grow.” 

Dachshund took my salutation and jollying in a 
very amiable spirit. 

“ I seem to afford you a good deal of amusement, 
friend Greyhound,” he replied, laughing at the 
ridiculous picture I made of him; “but don’t you 


187 


PUP 


know I am the latest fashion in dogs in your own 
country, and, consequently, quite au fait?” 

“ Well, friend,” I responded, trying to soothe his 
secret trouble by cracking a delicate joke over it, 
“ I don’t know what f 0 fay * may mean, but about 
how long has this fashion been out, pray? You 
are out long — I know that much without further 
telling!” Truly, I pitied Dachshund, he was such 
a grotesque-looking beast, and all the while he tried 
to appear so self-satisfied. 

But among all the fine dogs that came to the 
seaside on these trains, I found never an English 
greyhound. 

Whenever I went to Oceanview with the girls, 
the train-boys allowed me in the cars where ladies 
rode; otherwise, I went with the baggage-master. 
I was obliged to conduct myself very circumspectly 
when I rode first-class, owing to the presence of 
ladies, and, I must confess, I much preferred going 
as baggage for the sake of the fun I got. First- 
class, I sat stiff and prim; as baggage, I was 
permitted a happy-go-lucky freedom of the car 
without danger of making some finicky, little old 
lady nervous or scaring some silly baby into ear- 
splitting screams. 

My spirits were not fully restored that day ; con- 
sequently, I was in a good mood to go first-class 
and meditate, meantime, upon several perplexing 
problems, chief among which was, why a grey- 
hound should be Tom’s welcome companion one 

188 


PUP 


day when the lunch-basket was along, and thrust 
so rudely aside on another. I had not yet resolved 
the question in my mind when we arrived at Ocean- 
view, and, as Bertha and Alice went over to a settee 
to watch a crowd of excursionists just alighting 
from an incoming train, I strolled about as usual 
to look up something of interest to a dog. 

A mild-eyed horse that reminded me a good 
deal of Prince was drinking at a fountain at the 
farther side of the station ; it reminded me, also, that 
I was thirsty. 

“ Hello, friend! Have you any objection to my 
taking a drink along with you? Don’t be afraid 
— I like horses.” 

I waited just a minute to see if he were going 
to be frightened to death of a dog, as some foolish 
horses are, but, as he kept on undisturbed at his 
drinking, I lapped sociably from the other side of 
the fountain, and then trotted across the street to 
interview a donkey-team drawn up at the curb- 
stone in front of a candy-shop. 

It had been a question in my mind what species 
of beast these donkeys represented. They resem- 
bled horses, ’tis true; at the same time, they were 
scarcely larger than sheep, and not at all like any 
kind of a dog I had ever met. They certainly bore 
the unmistakable signs of being a cut-down kind 
of horse; but, before I had time to ask questions, 
I caught sight of a man sneaking up toward me, 


189 


PUP 


which, I must confess, gave me quite a turn for 
a moment, because I recognized my old master. 

I had given him no thought all these happy weeks, 
and now, on a day when I had other troubles, he 
suddenly appeared, to threaten my safety as well 
as my peace of mind. 

I soon regained my self-possession, fortunately, 
and darted away over to the station and squatted 
down beside the girls; not because I was so much 
afraid for myself, for, unless he caught me un- 
awares, I knew I could easily master him with my 
strong jaws; but I somehow felt that he might try 
to harm my dear girls. He sneaked around the 
corner, looking after me. As I caught his eye, I 
put on a warning scowl and just lifted my lip, so 
he would see and be reminded of my savage teeth, 
and he quickly disappeared. 

Of course, Bertha and Alice knew nothing of 
what was transpiring, and, after going for an hour’s 
run on the beach, we returned to the station. 

Our train was awaiting us on a side-track, while 
a city-bound express was discharging its load of 
travellers and baggage. 

I found one of my train-boys chatting with an 
express brakeman near the baggage-car, and rushed 
up to welcome him, then trotted along a few yards 
to watch the great trunks being tossed up into the 
car. For the moment I was off my guard — careless 
dog that I was; for I knew well enough what 
a cunning rascal my old master was, and should 

190 


PUP 


have remembered he was skulking around the 
station. 

The baggage was all aboard and the bell ring- 
ing the departure of the train before I became aware 
of the danger that threatened. Without warn- 
ing, I suddenly felt a strong grip at my collar and 
was pushed struggling toward the open door of 
the baggage-car. I strained my neck to snap at 
the thing that had me in its grip, but it was behind 
me, and kept such a twist upon my collar I was 
well-nigh strangled and utterly unable to turn my 
head. With a tremendous boost I was thrown 
heavily into the car, and, tossing a rope in after 
me, my captor ran for the smoker. 

I had yelped fiercely upon being seized, and, as 
I landed in the car, I caught sight of my train-boy 
and the girls running to my rescue ; but they could 
reach neither me nor my kidnapper, as the train 
was already pulling out from the station. 

Of course, my companions in the car had no 
means of knowing I was a kidnapped dog — how 
could they? And I behaved so desperately they 
were obliged to tie me up with the rope that was 
thrown in for that purpose. 

It was no use frying to console myself with the 
thought that Tom might be on the train, as he had 
proved to be once before. I knew, to my despair, 
he was off on the schooner, far from the sound of 
my cry for help. Master and John were gone; 
and the old, cruel master of bygone days was a 

191 


PUP 


very real and present menace. The men seemed 
to think that I was some vicious animal that needed 
restraint; consequently, they held aloof after a few 
ineffectual attempts to pacify me. I knew not 
whither I was going, nor to what fate, but I re- 
solved to show the ugliest side of a dog’s temper 
if I once got at my persecutor. In imagination 
I could still hear the cry of my girls and see my 
faithful brakeman running to my rescue. 

“ They must be greatly distressed, as well as 
myself,” I thought, and I glowered and growled 
and refused all friendly overtures, — angered at the 
outrage that had been perpetrated upon me and 
my friends. I resolved, if a chance occurred when 
I should be taken from the car, that I would spring 
at my captor’s throat. I knew I could kill him 
with one grip of my powerful jaws, and, since he 
would not heed my several warnings, I was re- 
solved to defend myself by serving him as I would 
a rat. 

What a pity it seems to be for an animal that 
loves people and serves them faithfully, as I try to 
serve, to be persecuted until all the sweetness dies 
out of his heart and ferocity takes its place ! And 
we greyhounds are so faithful and so loving and 
so forgiving, unless made desperate by cruelty ! 

I rolled my eyes wickedly toward the closed 
door ; I crouched ready for an instant spring should 
my captor appear when it opened; and I really 


192 


PUP 


felt that the men in my prison-car were in league 
with the kidnapper. 

It is not necessary to record all the thoughts that 
passed through my mind, so much of it was hot, 
implacable fury; but other feelings, soft and ten- 
der, crept in after a while, — feelings that perhaps 
saved me from turning my savage strength upon 
those that were innocent participators in the wrong 
being done me. I remembered the devotion of 
John and Tom ; the good comradeship of Ted ; 
the love of the girls ; and the sweet bones Mary 
tossed to me when I came in tired and hungry. 
And the recollection of all this goodness made me 
remember that, after all, the world was kind to 
a dog, except an occasional instance of wrong, 
such as this. I really could not remember many 
unkind people ! 

So I grew softer in my feelings toward the bag- 
gage-master. I would not manifest any friendliness, 
— I was still too aggrieved for that, — but I cer- 
tainly would not show my teeth to him, for this 
was his first offence against me; besides, he really 
had offered me no violence, even when I looked 
so wickedly at him. 

The journey was short; I could not have gone 
many miles. The car door was thrown open when 
the train halted, and I looked out, savagely ex- 
pectant, for my intended victim to appear. Much 
to my surprise, I caught a glimpse of his hurry- 
ing figure far in the rear of the station, running as 

193 


PUP 


if pursued. At my car door stood a couple of 
policemen, one of whom held a scrap of yellow paper 
in his hand. They talked hurriedly to the baggage- 
master, showed the paper, said something about 
“ telegram ” and “ dog ” and “ Tom Ross,” and then 
my leash was put into the hand of one of them, 
who coaxed me in a friendly, reassuring voice 
to come down with him. 

I was only too ready to accept the protection of 
any one, and seeing the old master running away 
gave me a good deal of confidence in the police- 
man’s kindly offices. Of course, I could not com- 
prehend all that was said, but I was a poor, unhappy, 
kidnapped dog, and needs must try to have a little 
faith in some one; so I followed, humbly obedient, 
to the baggage-room, to await further disposal of 
my person. 

I received a good deal of flattering attention from 
the men in bright buttons, besides some crackers 
and a drink of water. A number of people came 
in to look at me, and it was clearly evident that my 
case had become famous. I began to forget some 
of my recent anger, and remembered how fine a 
dog I was, and experienced great satisfaction at the 
sensation I was creating. ’Tis true, my spirits were 
not fully restored, — the depression had been too 
great, — but I was beginning to realize I was in 
the hands of friends, and the encounter with the 
old master already began to assume the character 


194 


PUP 


of a horrid nightmare; it had all been so sudden, 
so calamitous, and was so quickly dispelled. 

It was with a great deal of reluctance, I must 
admit, that I submitted to be led into another bag- 
gage-car in an hour or so. I felt very despondent 
again, for I knew not my destination nor what 
I was to encounter. My heart turned longingly to 
the dear home and beloved friends from whom I 
had been so rudely torn without so much as a last 
good-bye; but, since go I must, I thought it wiser 
to obey those who had me in hand, since every 
one behaved so gently to me. The policeman 
patted me good-bye, and my new custodian re- 
ceived me with most reassuring attentions ; so, hav- 
ing really nothing to fear at the present, I dropped 
down upon the floor and sat quiet and watchful, 
as the train once more puffed out of the station. 

With the door ajar at my nose, I was able to 
watch the trees and fields and telegraph-poles as 
we sped along. I started up in excitement once or 
twice, as through the half-open door I caught 
glimpses of birds flying low over marsh-lands, for- 
getting for a moment that I was a prisoner, shut 
out from the freedom that had been my unstinted 
portion all the blissful summer. These marshes 
also reminded me of home. The odour of salt air 
came into my nostrils; I sniffed it, and it thrilled 
me as a harbinger of good fortune. My muscles 
began to twitch, my drooping ears stiffened, my 
nostrils quivered, and I became nervously alert. 

195 


4 - 


PUP 


On we rolled. The ocean came into view, and 
on the distant water white sails made my heart 
bound with hope. I knew not what this unusual 
exaltation meant, but surely a dog might find cheer 
in the thought that over the familiar ocean, in one 
of those white-sailed ships, Tom might be coming 
to the rescue of his old playmate, Greyhound. 

Nearer and nearer the train drew toward the 
shore, until the fringe of curling breakers and long 
stretches of gleaming, silvery sand gladdened my 
sight and broke the glad tidings to a disconsolate 
greyhound that he was returning to his old haunts. 

When the train drew to a standstill at Ocean- 
view, I sprang unhindered from the car and leaped 
in exuberance of joy to the shoulders of my own 
glad brakeman, who was waiting to take me home. 

Bertha and Alice almost cried over my return. 
Mary acted as foolish as she did with John, and 
Mistress drew my head upon her lap and said, 
caressingly, in her soft, loving voice : “ Dear old 
fellow ! ” 

It is so good to have friends to help one out of 
trouble! I never understood, quite, how it all 
came about, for men have wonderful ways of doing 
things, but this much I do know, — it must have 
been powerful influence that rescued me from my 
persecutor. 


196 


PUP 


CHAPTER XX. 

A FOREST CABIN 

It is a fact — I do not like babies ! But if, by 
unlucky chance, a baby happens to be the guest 
of one’s mistress, there remains no alternative for 
a dog but to be civil and help amuse the little one, 
unless it be the other evil — running away. 

In this particular instance, I had no choice of 
alternatives, for, after the unsuccessful kidnapping 
affair, my liberty had been curtailed to most in- 
convenient limits and conditions. It was very awk- 
ward and annoying to confine one’s rambles to the 
slow pace and circumscribed walks of a human 
companion at all times, but I overheard Mistress 
and Tom discussing the danger that evidently threat- 
ened from the old master, and, since it was my 
safety they had at heart, I could do no less than 
accept the condition as philosophically as possible. 

Since I must hang around the house more or less, 
and the baby needed to be amused, why, I resigned 
myself to the situation and the baby with as good 
grace as a dog could do. I lay on the beach and 
let the little thing bury me under shovelfuls of sea- 

197 


PUP 


sand. It crawled over me, sat upon me, trod on 
my tail, pulled my lips apart to look at my teeth, 
and during all the martyrdom I acted a hero’s part. 
The pretty little one rewarded my docility by sharing 
her luncheon with her big playfellow, and laughed in 
little soft gurgles and shrieks when I nipped the 
bits of cracker from between her fingers or nosed 
up the scattered crumbs from her lap. 

Bull came along one day as I lay in the sand 
with the baby’s arm about my neck; he wore the 
same old scowl, and, consequently, the muzzle and 
leash. Really, I think it would be extremely diffi- 
cult for a friendly, good-tempered dog like myself 
to get on peaceably with Bull under any conditions, 
and I quite approve of the muzzle and leash for 
him. I am sure neither dog nor person would be 
safe if his path happened to be crossed unsatis- 
factorily, and, with his finicky disposition, I am 
sure he would find annoyance at every turn. Of 
course, if a dog walks the street looking for trouble, 
he is pretty sure to find it. I can’t foresee the 
result, had Bull and I ever come to a fight; I 
guess it would have turned out a case of “ Greek 
meets Greek, then comes the tug of war,” for a 
bulldog holds on like grim death, and a greyhound 
— well, ask Tom, who knows something of my 
prowess. 

The baleful look in Bull’s eye that morning as 
he sulked along a few paces behind his master 
dispelled any anticipation I might have entertained 

198 


PUP 


of a friendly greeting, and the sneering voice with 
which he growled his surly “ Hello ! ” started up 
a bit of greyhound spunk in me. 

“ Ur-r-r-ugh! ” he jeered, in bulldog gutturals. 
“ Dignified business for a great hulk of a dog like 
you ! Why don’t you bite that kid and teach it 
to keep out of the way? Catch a bulldog being 
sat on and tumbled over like that! Ur-r-r-ugh! ” 

“ Bull,” I barked back, rising to my feet and 
assuming all the dignity of my race, but without 
moving a pace from the side of the child, — “ Bull, 
you are unutterably offensive in your manners and 
ypur sentiments. I do not consider you a com- 
petent judge of what constitutes dignity in a dog. 
If you think it dignified to walk muzzled at the 
end of a leash, you are welcome to your opinion, 
and we won’t quarrel on that score; but, to my 
mind, the right spirit dignifies any act, however 
humble, and if my dog’s heart bids me be kind 
to a helpless, innocent baby, that is my affair, and 
we needn’t quarrel over that, either. But let me tell 
you this, Bull, — and you may take it in any spirit 
you please, — were you unmuzzled and offered any 
harm to this little playfellow of mine, I would 
strangle your taunts and jeers in your ugly, un- 
neighbourly throat ! Woof ! ” and I turned my 
back disdainfully upon him and lay down with my 
head in the baby’s lap. 

Isn’t it surprising! As soon as I began to de- 
fend its helplessness, a wonderful tenderness for the 

199 


PUP 


little one crept into my heart, although I must admit 
the child was often a great nuisance to me, and 
I thought it very unfair in Mistress to devote so 
much time to it, to the neglect of a faithful grey- 
hound. It has grieved me inexpressibly, — this 
usurpation of my privileges, — and many times I’ve 
walked away in disappointment and disgust to 
brood over the selfishness of a baby and the fickle- 
ness of my friends. 

I have not meant to convey the impression that 
I was kept prisoner and condemned to the amuse- 
ment of a baby, or that I was in any sense unhappy. 
I roamed the woods and sailed the bay with Tom; 
I enjoyed the picnics and moonlight sittings on the 
beach with him and the girls, as of old. I was 
kept within safe distance of home only to avoid 
danger that might be lurking in more remote 
places like the station. Every one seemed to 
feel that the old master was yet to be reckoned with, 
for it appeared, from this last attempt upon my 
person, that distance was no obstacle in the way of 
his scheming. Strange to say, no one seemed to 
understand the reason of his persistent efforts to 
regain possession of me, unless it were done to 
gratify a spirit of revenge. 

I love to linger over these Arcadian days ! I 
cannot begin the recitation of one adventure with- 
out its suggesting so many others that I grow be- 
wildered in the effort to select and reject the tales 
I hold in my memory for you. But I am conscious 

200 


PUP 


that other scenes have also a peculiar charm, so, 
with great reluctance, I leave Sailor and Setter and 
Shepherd to live on their tranquil lives by bay 
and marsh-lands, by winding river and heathery 
dunes, and invite you to brief glimpses of another 
life into which good fortune willed me ere the 
autumn ended. 

I awoke one morning to find myself in a world 
hitherto unknown to me. No baby to amuse, no 
Bull to exasperate me; no Setter nor Sailor with 
whom to swap stories or race the marshes; no 
Bertha and Alice to make merry hours of lazy 
existence. I had closed my eyes at night over 
inward visions of the summer, only to reopen them 
upon a daybreak instinct with marvellous revela- 
tions. 

A low log cabin, a cosy white tent, in which I had 
slept through the cool October night, a deep blue 
lake, and, encompassing all, the illimitable maze of 
forest. 

This had been no question of going to sleep in 
Bayside and awaking in Fairyland, albeit this gold 
and russet wood was a veritable elfin bower. No 
magician’s “ Presto ! ” no witch’s incantation, had 
wrought the wondrous transformation. This was 
the wilderness of bird and beast where scarce the 
foot of man had penetrated, except on trail of moose 
and bear. 

There had been another scene of farewells, and 
the train had puffed away, this time bearing my girls 
201 


PUP 


and with them all the dear friends of “ Idle Hour ” 
and “ Sokoki Lodge.” The two cottages were once 
more facing seaward with shut eyes and closed lips 
— silent and lone. Only Tom and Greyhound lin- 
gered to turn the key and bid a loving and regretful 
good-bye to the dear, familiar scenes. 

At Oceanview, I was once more shipped as bag- 
gage to parts unknown, but this time bearing a 
serenity of spirit in grateful contrast to the hysterical 
alarm and dismal forebodings of my two former 
trips. Now Tom sat with me during the first stages 
of the journey, and, as he reappeared at short in- 
tervals during the day, I was contented. 

Ted was with us, too, and I had no doubt the 
entire family would reappear in some unexpected 
moment at the journey’s end. 

It was late on that October day when we left 
the train at a rude way-station close on the fringes 
of a forest. We watched the departing train plunge 
away into the deepening shadows of the afternoon, 
and saw the billows of white smoke and the con- 
verging rails of the roadway vanish in perspective. 
Except here and there a solitary farmhouse at most 
unneighbourly distances from one another, there 
was nothing to be seen save the wide stretches of 
undulating farmlands on one side and endless and 
seemingly impenetrable forests of red and gold on 
the other. 

When I could stop studying my surroundings long 
enough to investigate my feelings, I found I was 

202 


PUP 


a tired greyhound, aching in body and stiffened in 
limbs from long inaction. I trotted about to limber 
my legs and await further developments. 

Tom and Ted looked after the scanty baggage — 
only a couple of suit-cases and shotguns. 

“ It must be we are going off on a tramp through 
the woods,” I concluded, as I sniffed at the guns 
and looked away into the darkening forest and 
over the lonely country. * 

A rickety old wagon was in waiting, the horse 
hitched to the trunk of a fallen tree near by. The 
horse was a stout-built beast, with ungroomed coat 
and shaggy fetlocks, quite unlike my sleek and dap- 
per Prince, but a kindly face, withal, who nosed 
familiarly and trustingly about me. I was invited 
to ride as the boys clambered up beside the rough- 
looking driver, but I looked at the shabby vehicle 
and the wobbly wheels with so much disfavour in 
my face, and toward the rude wagon-way that led 
into the heart of the wood with so much wistfulness, 
that Tom sang out : “ All right ! Go it, Pup ! ” and 
the driver without further delay touched the horse 
gently with a bit of green withe, that, in lieu of 
whip, dangled limp and forlornly over the dasher. 
As I jogged sedately off, I heard the quaint “ Git 
ap ! ” of the driver and the creaking of the rickety- 
jointed old wagon, as it laboured along close at my 
heels. 

The road was rocky and rutted. The bushes 
brushed the sides of the wagon in passing, and in- 

203 


PUP 


terlacing branches completely shut out the mellow 
October twilight. Farther on, the road became 
labyrinthine and finally obscured by the darkness 
held in the deeps of the forest, as the wagon lurched 
and bumped along over rocks and roots and dead 
leaves. After a weary tramp, I stopped, and, look- 
ing up at Tom, whined anxiously. I was hopelessly 
at a loss to understand whither all this rough and 
gloomy way was tending, and I wanted a reassur- 
ing word from Tom. Interpreting my dumb plead- 
ing, he cheerily bade me jump aboard as the driver 
pulled up the patient horse for me to leap in amongst 
guns and boxes behind. 

Thus we bumped and lurched along through the 
darkness of night. My bones ached and my body 
was bruised from too frequent intimacy with the 
sharp corners of boxes and projecting gun-barrels, 
as we were jerked and jolted onward. Tom and 
Ted whistled and sang, and the driver “ Yaw- 
hawed !” loudly and gutturally at jokes that were 
quite lost upon me. They were merry enough, 
while I struggled to be resigned, with a heart full 
of conflicting emotions, but, withal, not entirely 
miserable. 

At last we arrived. It was simply a sudden stop 
in the intense blackness of a night-enveloped forest ; 
a halt where the flicker of light through a small 
window proclaimed the presence of a human habita- 
tion. I leaped from my uneasy bed to the ground 
as a door swung open, and, with a joyful throb of 

204 


PUP 


the heart, I saw Tom’s father, lantern in hand, 
stride over the low threshold with a glad “ Hello, 
my son ! ” 

I was too utterly wearied that night to examine 
my quarters or surroundings; but the blazing fire 
on the hearth, after a feast of bread and meaty 
bones, and the presence of a jolly company lulled me 
into a sense of feeling that, of all good places on 
earth, a log hut in the wilderness, with a roaring 
fire of brushwood, in front of which a greyhound 
could snooze away an evening unmolested, was the 
very greatest to be desired. 


205 


PUP 


CHAPTER XXI. 

VOICES OF THE WILDERNESS 

As I stood at the opening of the white tent at 
daybreak and filled my lungs with the exhilarating 
breath of an October morning, my heart bounded 
anew with a great joy of living. The dewy air 
was redolent of forest odours, the woodsy fragrance 
of clean, damp earth and new-fallen leaves, and the 
aroma of pine and spruce that lent their occasional 
dark verdure to contrast restfully against the gold 
and red and russet brown of the October woods. 

A twig snapping somewhere in the distant brush 
made me prick up my ears in eager expectancy of 
rabbits. I would investigate later; at the present 
moment I was too absorbed in the general aspect 
of everything about me to be diverted by a trifling 
incident. 

Through a gap in the beeches and maples I could 
see the calm, blue waters of the little lake ; not shim- 
mering and reflecting the shrubbery and tall grass 
as in mid-morning, for the sun was scarcely longer 
out of its bed than was I, but holding in its quiet 
depths a white cloud or two that hung in the sky 

206 


PUP 


overhead. The wind playfully shook off a few 
dying leaves, but they fluttered slowly to the earth, 
as if reluctant to bid good-bye to the mother-tree 
and their multihued companions on the autumn 
bough. Birds cheeped and twittered amid the 
branches; gray squirrels and red whisked through 
oak and beech, gathering their winter’s store of 
acorns and beechnuts, while my nostrils tingled 
and muscles twitched nervously as I contemplated 
the bounteous life opened up before my wondering 
eyes. 

Thus far, the silence of tent and cabin had been 
unbroken; but suddenly a white-aproned man ap- 
peared in the door of the little log house and hailed 
me cheerily and then, turning to a tin wash-basin 
that sat on a stump close at hand, bathed his face 
and hands with much splashing and spluttering. 
One by one the other sleepers crawled from their 
rude bunks built on the walls of the cabin, and took 
each one his turn at the basin. Tom and Ted were 
literally pulled from their beds by the jolly camp- 
fellows, but soon made the voice of the forest echo 
their whoops of delight, as they stepped out into the 
glory of this woodland retreat. 

However, appetizing odours of cookery finally 
drew my attention from external surroundings to 
the cravings of a hungry stomach and the prospect 
of a breakfast. I found a number of men besides 
master around the table, whom I had been too 
tired to notice the evening before. Ben, the white- 

207 


PUP 


aproned one, was camp cook. It was funny to see 
a man at work over coffee-pot and gridiron, as 
Mary did at home, but the corn cake was as deli- 
cious, and the meat and bones were, if anything, 
more abundant. 

Joe, a loud-voiced, weather-beaten fellow, with a 
jovial laugh and a tremendous appetite, was the 
camp guide. I learned that later; but I noticed 
him on the first morning because he differed from 
the other strange men so greatly in many ways. He 
was so busy in directing affairs, so self-reliant, so 
full of stories, and made the rough table tremble 
under the force of his big fist, as he brought it 
down with a thump in the midst of some exciting 
story of the hunt. 

The breakfast was served so queerly! I became 
accustomed to the rough table and uncouth dress 
and careless manners after a little, and liked it 
immensely; but I had never seen table laid before 
without cloth, and I missed the flutter of napkins 
and gentle courtesies which had been a part of all 
the home life I had ever known. No white-capped 
maid attended these guests, but, instead, everything 
was help-yourself-happy-go-lucky about this wild- 
wood dining-table, and I figured as prominently and 
with as little ceremony as the others. I passed un- 
reproved from chair to chair, getting a bit here 
and there dropped into my mouth, or catching a 
bone that came flying across the table to me from 
some reckless, fun-loving fellow. 


208 


PUP 


My ! but didn’t I enjoy eating with people ! 

I often wish Master and Mistress would permit 
such freedom at home ; it seems much more enjoy- 
able to a greyhound. 

While Ben cleared away the remains of the 
breakfast and put up some lunches, others hung the 
bedding upon lines stretched from tree to tree out- 
side, and cut and collected fallen branches for fire- 
wood, brought pails of water from the lake, and 
overhauled guns and ammunition in preparation for 
the day’s sport, while I followed one and another 
about, curious and interested. 

Briefly, one morning was much like another in 
its general routine of duties, but the incidents that 
gave zest to the three weeks of camp-life need to 
be related one by one. Everything was so novel it 
became fixed indelibly in my mind, and the only 
thing that seemed at all like the old summer-time 
was the morning or evening bath in the lake. This 
reminded me of the sea-bathing at Bayside. Every 
one, even to Ben the cook and Joe the guide, plunged 
in for his daily swim, while I, as usual, sat on the 
shore and looked the disgust I took no pains to 
conceal. 

“ Woof! ” A lot of grown-up men paddling about 
in a pond of water, like a flock of foolish swans or 
a gang of roistering schoolboys! Dear me, many 
of these peculiar ways of men I understand no 
better now than I did during my first months of 
doghood ! 

209 


PUP 


One of my earliest praiseworthy exploits hap- 
pened on our second day in camp. The men were 
all off deer-stalking. With Tom and Ted for com- 
panions, I had been roaming the woods all the 
morning for small game. I had treed several gray 
squirrels, which they promptly brought to earth 
with their guns. This was particularly gratifying 
to me since I felt confident that, without my sharp 
eyes, they could never have discovered the quarry. 

But, greatly to my discontent, I had not been 
able to capture a thing myself. Everything perched 
too high, and I again wondered why dogs are not 
able to climb trees as well as cats and squirrels. 

At last a rustling of leaves and snapping of twigs 
in the distance caused me to prick up my ears. I 
have to depend wholly upon eyes and ears, you 
know, for greyhounds have little sense of smell and 
cannot follow a trail. In the next moment a fat 
jack-rabbit leaped across my path. I really think 
I never caught a wharf-rat quicker in my life than 
I lifted that little gray beast into the air on the 
tip of my nose. Why, it seemed as if the foolish 
thing were actually inviting me to offer him up in 
a stew for supper, for, in the language of Tom and 
Ted, he was “ dead easy ! ” 

After my customary manner of hunting the rab- 
bit, I caught him in my jaws as he came struggling 
toward the ground. It required but one vigorous 
shake to finish the job I had begun; then I stood 
back, surveyed my game, and laughed. 


210 


PUP 


The boys were mightily pleased, and no mistake ! 
How I wish Setter could have witnessed my 
triumph ! 

I missed Setter; that is, there were occasions 
when his company would have been most agreeable. 
I had heard the voice of a dog in the woods several 
times since my arrival in camp, but it was too far 
away for me to distinguish what the bow-wows 
meant. Once I fancied it was the bay of a fox- 
hound, but we tramped the forest until sundown 
that day without meeting either dog, man, or any 
big game, and returned tired and hungry with our 
squirrels and rabbit. 

The camp squad came in a little later, bringing 
game no bigger than that we had bagged, but, as 
they brought a lively appetite as well as we, supper 
was eaten with such relish that it conferred as 
great a compliment upon Ben’s skill with the broiler 
as it did upon ours with the shotgun, and every 
one appeared well satisfied with the ending of the 
day. 

I became so utterly wearied by nightfall with 
these long tramps day after day — although I en- 
joyed it too thoroughly to remain at home — that I 
often wished for Newfoundland at night to keep 
watch over the sleeping camp. I felt the great re- 
sponsibility devolving upon me, and it necessarily 
begot slumbers fitful and filled with disturbing 
visions. 

My bed, like that of Ted and Tom, was of pine 

211 


PUP 


boughs, piled profusely in one corner of the tent 
and covered with quilts, — soft and fragrant enough, 
if that were all, — and a lantern burned, suspended 
outside. Nevertheless, I could not understand 
what security a lantern afforded from the fierce 
forest-folk we were so eagerly hunting with many 
men and deadly rifles; and so my bed, in spite of 
soft quilts and sweet odours, proved at best but an 
uneasy one. 

My tent-mates were sleeping heavily one night, 
exhausted, as usual, by the day’s tramp, and all 
undisturbed by such cares as rested oppressively 
upon me. I felt danger threatening from some 
source. The apprehension came through intuition 
rather than reason, and I felt the necessity of being 
alert to every sound of crackling twig or rustling 
leaf. The brief dreams I had tended rather to 
exhaust than to refresh me, for they were terrifying, 
and filled my waking moments with dismal fore- 
bodings. 

Suddenly I sprang to my feet in alarm, as a wild 
and mournful cry sounded through the trees and 
awakened doleful echoes in the forest. Again it 
moaned out on the night air and died away in the 
distance. 

I sprang with a quick, sharp bark to the boys’ 
couch. 

“Wow, wow! Wake up, wake up! There’s 
danger ! Up, Tom ! Up, Ted ! ” and the next in- 
stant, startled and bewildered, both boys were stand- 

212 


PUP 


ing in the middle of the tent, looking about them 
for the cause of the alarm. 

They peered cautiously out into the night, with 
their guns in hand. All was quiet, save the soft 
rustling of leaves as the wind soughed through the 
trees. Not even the crackling of a twig proclaimed 
the presence of any living thing; nothing unusual 
was to be seen. I stood, quivering with excitement, 
beside them, ears alert and eyes searching the 
thicket; but neither could I, with my keen senses 
of sight and hearing, detect any sign of midnight 
marauder. 

We had stepped outside within the circle of lan- 
tern-light, and stood with ears strained and nerves 
tense. 

“ Who-o-o ! Who-o-o-o ! ” 

“ Quiet ! ” commanded Tom, under his breath, 
smothering my low growl with a sudden clasp of 
his fingers over my mouth; then he rushed to the 
cabin window. 

“ Father ! Boys ! ” he called, in a low, excited 
tone, thumping at the pane. 

As they came rushing out, alarmed at the outcry, 
I heard Tom say something about ‘‘owls,” and, 
after some hustling around, a squad, including the 
boys, crept out into the deep shadows of the trees, 
following the direction of the mysterious voice of 
the night. The moon afiforded a little light, by 
which we picked our difficult way along. We went 
quietly, peering up into the branches overhead, 

213 


PUP 

while close at hand, at short intervals, came the 
mournful “ who-o-ing.” 

With a nervous yelp I crouched at Tom’s side, 
as a rifle-crack answered the last wail from a tree- 
top directly over our heads, and tumbling through 
the branches to my very feet came a huge gray owl. 

After one or two spasmodic flutterings, he lay 
dead in our midst. The moonlight, filtering pale 
through the half-leafless trees, had enabled us to 
make the midnight raid successfully, and there was 
great rejoicing over the exploit when we returned 
to the cabin. 

Most of the conversation I could not quite un- 
derstand, but I felt that I had done a heroic deed. 
It must have been a fierce bird, indeed, judging 
from his terrifying cries. I may have saved my 
boys from an awful fate by my steadfast vigilance ; 
so I crept back to bed in the tent, conscious of 
security and satisfied with my well-kept watch. 

This wild life was fine! I was in jubilant spirits 
from early morning till weary nightfall, and, 
whether paddling over the quiet lake or roaming 
the woods, it was all good to a greyhound. Why 
Ted should have left poor Setter behind I could 
not understand, for partridges were numerous, and 
birds were Setter’s especial quarry. It would have 
afforded me much gratification to relinquish that 
part of my sport to one so skilled as my old com- 
panion of the summer, because squirrels and rabbits 


214 


PUP 


and high-nesting birds were more in my line, and 
there was sport more than enough for two. 

Besides, it is pleasant to have a dog to converse 
with at times, to whom one can communicate a 
dog’s inner thoughts in one’s own language; for, 
with all my astuteness and Tom’s cleverness, this 
had been accomplished between boy and dog in a 
more or less unsatisfactory manner. 

The dog whose voice I frequently heard during 
my tramps had so far eluded us; but I kept him 
always in mind, and confidently expected to meet 
him some day in my wanderings. In fact, I had 
been thinking seriously for two or three days of 
starting off on a day’s tramp by myself to hunt him 
up. I wanted to tell him about my prowess among 
rabbits and squirrels, and also of the red fox the 
men brought into camp that night. I wanted a 
little information concerning foxes, for it puzzled 
me greatly — it being the first one I’d ever seen — 
to find foxes resembling dogs so closely. Of course, 
his brush was quite unlike the tail of a dog; other- 
wise, he might easily be mistaken for one. And, 
although I sniffed at the carcass and looked it over 
carefully, I still felt that a dog accustomed to the 
woods could enlighten me considerably on the sub- 
ject of foxes. 


215 


PUP 


CHAPTER XXII. 

A BATTLE TO THE DEATH 

The desire to meet this elusive dog of the woods 
culminated one morning in a sudden resolve to start 
out on my own responsibility and search the forest 
until I found him. I could not ask permission to 
go, not knowing how to communicate this particular 
wish to my friends. It is doubtful if they would 
have granted it in any case, as it was by no means 
impossible for even a dog to become lost in this 
vast and intricate maze of forest. Watching my 
opportunity, I simply dropped unobserved behind 
the thicket at the rear of the tent and stole away. 

All that long forenoon I zigzagged through the 
forest tangle. I barked and listened, barked again 
and yet again; but only the echoes of my own 
voice responded. I must have wandered miles that 
October morning, but I found no trace of my dog; 
I had not heard even an answering bark. Par- 
tridges arose thrumming from bushes and dead 
logs, but I paid no heed to them nor to the squirrels 
that chittered and barked at me from the trees. I 
was disappointed. The sun hung high overhead, 

216 


PUP 


and I began to feel hungry. Tom and Ted were 
not with me with their well-filled pockets of 
luncheon as usual, so I turned dejectedly back 
toward camp. 

Although the way had been through a labyrinth 
of brush and fallen trees, unerring instinct led me 
directly to the lake, whose margin I followed 
straight to the canoe-landing. A lake is a most 
convenient guide to a dog in a big forest. 

As I meandered slowly along, occasionally stop- 
ping to lap a few mouthfuls of water, I watched 
a canoe far over toward the opposite shore with 
some little curiosity. Two men were in it, paddling 
about with no appearance of steering for any place 
in particular. It was an unusual sight, for no one 
but Tom and Ted ever used the canoe, and I had 
surely left them skinning the dead fox. Every 
little while a puff of white smoke arose from about 
them, and the report of a gun sounded over the 
water. 

At last I ceased to take any special interest in the 
manceuvrings of the canoe until I neared camp, 
when I saw the men paddling rapidly toward our 
landing, and, much to my surprise, found them to 
be Tom and Ted. They had brought in a brace 
of fine ducks for Ben to roast, and we walked up 
the narrow lake-path together, with never a look 
of guilt upon my countenance to betray my morn- 
ing’s truancy. While they sat on a fallen tree back 
of the cabin, busily plucking the ducks, I lay at 

217 


PUP 


their feet and gnawed my luncheon bone, then 
crawled away into the tent for a noonday nap. 

After cabin-luncheon was over, I was whistled 
up for a squirrel-hunt; for the camp-table, it ap- 
pears, depended upon our guns for its supply of 
meat foods. So, forgetting my morning’s disap- 
pointment and weariness, I bounded off, nose in air, 
with my companions following. 

But my eagerness soon died out, and, for some 
reason, the boys seemed rather indifferent to the 
sport that afternoon. Could it be that we were 
becoming tired of squirrels and partridges ? I think 
a fat rabbit would have aroused some enthusiasm, 
but, unluckily, the rabbit did not put in an appear- 
ance. 

We had gone but a short distance when Tom 
and Ted dropped down upon a fallen tree, and, 
resting their guns beside them, began to talk. I 
must confess I was more inclined to rest, myself, 
than to tramp, for I found I was actually leg-weary ; 
so I was content to stretch out at their feet and 
listen. There was much I could not understand, 
but, from occasional familiar words and tones, I 
found they regretted not having gone with the camp 
gang after big game. For my part, I was glad ; for, 
on the two expeditions the boys had already made 
with them during the week, I had been left behind. 
Not but that Ben was a good fellow and more than 
generous to a dog in the matter of juicy bone or 
partridge-broth, but he spent so much time dressing 

218 



CAMPING IN THE MAINE WOODS 




PUP 


game and baking and stewing that I was neglected. 
I really could not sleep all the time, neither did 
I care to spend too much of the day thinking, and 
he would not allow me to go off alone to amuse 
myself in the forest; consequently, I felt much like 
a dog in leash, although the actual leash was 
wanting. 

It became very stupid listening to the chatter of 
the two boys on the log, when one could understand 
little or nothing of what was said, and the two or 
three rifle-shots that vibrated to our ears inter- 
ested me no more than the conversation had in- 
terested me, for they seemed too far distant to 
promise me any excitement; so I concluded I’d roll 
over for a nap until orders came to move. 

Suddenly an unusual sound attracted the atten- 
tion both of the boys and myself. I pricked up my 
ears to listen. It came nearer and seemed like the 
desperate flight of some huge body through the 
thick underbrush. Dead limbs snapped loudly, and 
bushes rustled. We all sprang to our feet and 
looked anxiously ahead, for the object was ap- 
proaching directly in front. The bays seized their 
guns and stood on the defensive, but not one of us 
knew what we were to encounter. 

All this transpired with the rapidity of thought, 
and the next instant a huge stag came crashing 
through the dense undergrowth and confronted us. 

It halted one moment at bay. 

Tom and Ted were so paralyzed with surprise 

219 


PUP 


they moved neither hand nor foot. There was the 
desperation of death in the creature’s eyes, — I 
wonder if the boys could see it as a greyhound 
could, — and blood trickled from a bullet-wound 
and soaked the dun coat of the fore shoulder and 
leg to a muddy red stain. Its huge, branching 
antlers shook with the passion of terror, or pain, or 
anger, — I knew not which, — and its aspect was 
so furious I felt that at its next plunge my friends 
would be impaled on those terrible, forked antlers. 

Without an instant’s hesitation, I leaped in one 
desperate bound at the animal’s throat. Had I 
failed of my mark, I would have been trampled 
mercilessly beneath the powerful fore feet; but 
my jaws closed like grim death upon the vital spot, 
and my long fangs sank through the thick hide 
where the great artery that carried the creature’s 
life-blood led upward through the quivering muscle 
of the neck. 

The battle was on, fierce and dangerous for both 
deer and greyhound. 

It seemed for some terribly long minutes of con- 
flict that the odds were against me, for the deadly 
fore feet struck out in furious blows it was difficult 
to avoid, any one of which, had it struck me, would 
have ended my life. The great muscles of the 
creature’s throat swelled and strained under the 
wild tossing of its head in its desperate endeavours 
to shake itself free. The limbs of the bushes lashed 
our bodies as we struggled together; blood from 

220 


PUP 


the severed jugular gushed over my white throat 
and dripped upon the leaves beneath us ; and I was 
swung to and fro like the pendulum of a clock, as 
his head tossed wildly from side to side. 

In a viselike grip I still held his throat, while all 
the creature’s struggling served only to sink my 
long teeth deeper and deeper into the tough muscle 
of his nieck, and at every endeavour to wrest him- 
self free the life-blood gushed afresh from the 
severed artery. 

His strength was fast being spent. Blinded with 
fury and goaded to desperation, we both fought on. 
Flight was impossible,' trembling as he was through 
pain and weakness and clogged by my hundred and 
forty pounds of weight tugging at his throat; but 
he battled heroically, although destined to succumb 
at last, even if he succeeded in killing me, for 
the work of death the bullet had failed to do at 
once my terrible teeth were surely completing. 

Tom, my faithful Tom, was all the time alive 
to the deadly peril of his old friend, Greyhound; 
but man could not cope with a wounded stag at 
bay with no weapon other than a gun loaded with 
small bird-shot, and he was forced to stand help- 
lessly by and watch the fearful fight go on, wherein 
I was liable at any moment to lose my life; but 
he would not forsake me. I felt rather than saw 
his agonized face, as my swaying body barely es- 
caped the deadly blows of the deer’s hoofs. 

I never quite understood how it could all happen, 

221 


PUP 


for it appeared as if by miracle, when my own 
strength was fast giving way under the terrible 
strain put upon me, for had my jaws once relaxed 
their hold I must have fallen to the ground and 
been trampled to death under the cruel feet of the 
dying stag; but before that vital moment could 
arrive an opportunity must have come, which Tom 
was quick to seize, for I was conscious of a black 
object swinging above my head and falling with a 
dull thud across the stag’s forehead. Tom had 
clubbed his gun and, with almost superhuman 
strength, dealt the stunning blow. I distinctly felt 
the impact transmitted to me through the strong 
frame of the deer, and felt, also, the muscle of the 
neck relax; felt the quivering of the body as it 
yielded its last feeble strength under the deadened 
brain; felt the huge frame grow limp and sway 
and settle heavily to the ground, bearing down the 
young shrubbery beneath its enormous bulk. 

I opened my jaws and rolled, weak and dizzy, 
from the body of my noble antagonist. 

Ah, but he was a fine creature ! As he lay there 
and breathed out his few last feeble life-throbs upon 
the blood-stained forest leaves, I felt a great pity 
for a moment that so noble a creature should die. 

I was trembling and weak from exhaustion. My 
body was painfully bruised from being tossed 
against trees and whipped by the keen, cutting 
branches, that sprang back upon me like whip-lashes 
as we plunged about the thicket in our struggle, 

222 


PUP 


and my white coat was wet and crimson with the 
life-blood of this fallen “ monarch of the forest,” 
but, withal, there was a glow of pride in my heart 
as the boys knelt over my prostrate and panting 
body, that I, Greyhound, a one-time vagabond of 
the streets, had stood heroically between my two 
friends and a terrible death, and had conquered a 
huge brute like that. 

Tom and Ted examined me carefully, patted and 
caressed me, called me brave names, and almost shed 
tears of joy over my miraculous escape. It was a 
scene both sad and sweet for a dog to remember. 
Ted was left to guard the dead buck, while pain- 
fully, wearily, I dragged my bruised body home 
at Tom’s heels. It was hours before the men came 
in from the day’s hunt, and it must have been weary 
waiting for Ted, alone in the woods. 

How my body ached! 

The hot tub bath, into which Ben and Tom 
coaxed me, and the scrubbing and rubbing off felt 
very soothing for the time, and all the sickening 
blood-stains were washed from my coat; neverthe- 
less, I felt that I was a badly used-up greyhound, 
and, although extra quilts were thrown about me 
to prevent a chill, I must confess my condition was 
so distressing it recalled painful recollections of 
my encounter with the swans. Despite my bruises, 
however, I had emerged from this battle covered 
with glory instead of humiliation, and my dead 


223 


PUP 


adversary lay in the silence of defeat, awaiting the 
home-coming squad to bring him into camp. 

I have always thought that the unusual rejoicing 
in the cabin on that memorable evening, and the 
many delicate attentions paid me, as I lay before 
the blazing hearth, were on account of the heroic 
manner in which I had stood by the boys in their 
peril, and, between the occasional painful sighs and 
moans which I could not repress, I felt a great 
swelling of pride at my prowess, which, for the 
time, compensated for much of the weariness and 
pain. 

When I crawled forth from the tent next morn- 
ing the sun was high. My night had been long 
and sleepless, and I was too stiff and sore to leave 
my bed till hunger forced me to move. Suspended 
from a tree beside the cabin hung the denuded 
carcass of the deer; rolled in a big bundle by the 
doorway was its heavy coat; and near by, on a 
stump, a silent face seemed to gaze reproachfully 
at me from beneath its formidable antlers as I 
attempted to pass by. 

“ Woof ! ” I replied, sullenly, to its silent reproof, 
and entered the cabin. I would not permit pity 
to fill me with remorse. I had done nothing but 
my duty, and it was only through the intervention 
of a miracle that I was not as silent and still as 
the creature that hung from the tree. 

Truth to tell, I was too ill to feel any softening 
of heart toward the deer whose fate I had been. 

224 


PUP 


I could scarcely drag myself over the threshold, 
and hobbled painfully and pathetically up to Ben 
for my breakfast. My quilt was piled beside the 
kitchen stove, and Tom bathed my aching sides 
with that old, ill-smelling stuff from the bottle, then 
left me with cook to wear away the morning. 

It was late in the afternoon before I felt equal 
to taking a bit of exercise. Ben had gone to the 
lake for a pail of water, the camp was deserted, and 
I was unutterably lonely. I looked into the tent 
for Tom and Ted, but its emptiness was dis- 
heartening; so I turned to a little refuge I had 
discovered one day when prowling about by myself 
within the prescribed limits of the camp. It was 
a little opening in the tall trees, through which the 
sun dropped its October brightness upon the soft 
carpet of leaves, and where I had often come to 
escape the turmoil of the camp and to meditate. 
Here I would have the companionship of birds and 
squirrels, at least. 

I threw myself upon the soft leaves with a deep 
sigh of relief. Any change from the lonely camp 
was grateful, and the warm sunshine was soothing 
to my lame body. 

Faint and far away I heard the voice of a dog, 
but I was too ill to follow it up. I became drowsy 
in the sunlight, and put my nose between my paws 
for a nap. 

Suddenly a sharp bark sounded close at hand, and 
the crack of a gun the next moment started me 

225 


PUP 


to my feet and set my nerves a-quiver. A wounded 
rabbit came tumbling and twisting out of the bushes 
in front of me, just as a bristly yellow dog broke 
through the brush and rushed up to me, barking 
angrily. 

“ Wow ! Hello ! ” I cried, in astonishment. 

“ Bow, wow, wow ! Let my game alone, you 
thief !” snarled Yellow Dog. 

“ Look here, friend, just moderate your temper 
and your language, if you please! You are on 
my territory, and I tolerate no impertinence. As 
for your rabbit, I have no wish to deprive any honest 
dog of his game. I consider you a trespasser,” I 
continued, “ and you have disturbed my nap ; but 
I could easily overlook all that, had you come with 
a friendly greeting instead of in this vindictive 
spirit. What’s the matter with you, anyway ? ” 

The yellow dog dropped his tail and head in most 
abject manner, and looked so ashamed that I soft- 
ened my tone and continued : 

“ See here, Yellow Dog, let’s you and I not 
quarrel! These forests are wide, and dogs are 
scarce. Lie down here and let’s have a friendly 
chat. Where are you from ? ” 

“Over yonder, in a camp at the head of the 
lake,” my new acquaintance answered, somewhat 
mollified by my desire to be friendly. “ What are 
you doing here ? Looking for rabbits ? ” 

“ No, I have just killed a deer, and, being tired, 
thought I would take a nap in the sun,” I answered, 

226 


PUP 


with a little swagger of pride in my bark. “ I 
don’t mind being disturbed, though; indeed, I am 
rather glad, if you will be civil and visit with me.” 

Just then Yellow Dog’s master came up. 

“ Come out to camp and see my deer,” said I to 
Yellow Dog, after I had sniffed about the man 
to see if he were to be trusted. 

“ I never heard your voice before,” I continued, 
as Yellow Dog and I picked our way to camp, fol- 
lowed by his master. “ Do you know of any other 
dog hereabouts? I’ve heard a bark several times, 
but it was quite unlike yours, and I must confess 
to some curiosity about my neighbours when they 
are so rare as they seem to be here in the woods.” 

“ Oh, yes,” my visitor responded, quite good- 
natured now ; “ there’s a greyhound roaming about 
with his master, — quite a stuck-up creature, — 
I don’t like him, — he looks like you ! I beg par- 
don — no offence intended ! ” he hastened to say, 
remembering my former caution. 

“ That’s all right, friend ; no offence taken where 
none is meant. But tell me — in what way does he 
resemble me ? What colour is he ? ” I asked, anx- 
iously. 

“ As like your coat as ‘ two peas in a pod ’ ; you 
might easily pass for brothers.” 

“ Might pass for brothers ! ” My heart gave a 
great throb of hope. I had expected to hear it was 
one of those foppish Italians, of whom I do not 
at all approve. 

227 


PUP 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

“old masters, yellow dogs, and fiddles” 

I can't say that I admired Yellow Dog on the 
whole. I tried very hard to be civil, since we were 
neighbours, and dogs were not a common occur- 
rence in our part of the forest; but I did not feel 
that his call was gratifying from a social point of 
view, and accepted the fact of his living too far 
away for convenient neighbourly calls with more 
satisfaction than regret. 

He possessed a disposition that makes any one, 
whether dog or man, unpopular, — a cynical, cur- 
rish tendency to belittle whatever concerns others. 
I showed him my deer, and he sarcastically asked 
how much of the killing I did; I took him into 
my tent, and he remarked that he liked a cabin 
better himself ; and when I told him of the courage 
I displayed the night we captured the owl, he sneer- 
ingly replied that any “fool dog” should have 
known it was only a harmless owl. 

“The idea,” he said, “of routing out a whole 
camp to chase a hoot-owl ! ” 

I became disgusted trying to entertain him, and 

228 


PUP 


was glad enough to see his heels disappear in the 
bushes along with his master. Ordinarily, I would 
have walked out a little way with him for courtesy’s 
sake, but I concluded that civilities were wasted 
upon him; so I stood in the cabin door and just 
said “Woof!” and watched him out of sight. I 
walked down to the lake for a drink, meditating 
upon the one gratifying feature of his visit : I had 
positive news of a greyhound in the forest, and 
what was so reassuring to me was the knowledge 
that I resembled him. Since Yellow Dog had 
brought a fresh hope into my heart, I readily for- 
gave him his odious spirit, especially now that 
he had gone and could say no more irritating things 
to me. 

I lapped the sweet water of the lake and looked 
with much interest at my own face, reflected back 
to me. I looked across to the opposite shore, won- 
dering if any strange beasts or birds were to be 
found yonder. A flock of wild ducks was swimming 
about in leisurely fashion in the middle of the pond, 
and, as I saw the idle canoe, I wondered why Tom 
and Ted need go off so far, when here, close at 
hand, was a plenty of the sport they seemed to 
enjoy most. Duck made such a toothsome lunch, 
too ! 

“ What a pity ! ” I sighed, as I returned to my 
lapping. 

The long, mournful cry of a loon startled me, and 
I saw it rise from the water near by and fly to its 

229 


PUP 


nesting-place on the opposite shore. Another op- 
portunity missed ; for Tom and Ted had long been 
trying to get a shot at this pair of loons, but, being 
such elusive birds, before a bullet could reach them 
they always managed to dive under water. The 
best rifle-shot in camp had been baffled by these 
long-legged water-birds ; so it was nothing to the 
boys’ discredit that they had succeeded no better. 
Something more formidable than myself had evi- 
dently startled the solitary bird, and I looked about 
curiously. 

My quick ears detected a crackling of twigs, and, 
quite as startled as the loon, I beheld the intruder 
— my old master — parting the shrubbery close be- 
side me and peering cautiously about. 

For a moment I was bewildered by this unex- 
pected appearance of my persecutor; then I felt a 
momentary impulse to run, but my wits soon re- 
turned to the rescue. I remembered that, facing 
danger, I had nothing to fear. I was vastly his 
superior in open battle, and he was as well aware 
of it as myself. I lifted my upper lip in a way 
he remembered, — a way I have of warning evil- 
doers, — and gave a low, threatening growl. Baffled 
in his hope of catching me off guard again, he 
turned and walked with an indifferent swagger up 
the narrow footpath to the cabin. 

I suspected mischief of some sort, and followed 
watchfully and with a determination to see him 
well out of camp before I relaxed my vigilance. I 

230 


PUP 


could see by the civil manner with which Ben 
received him that they were strangers, and I looked 
sullenly on and gave an ugly “ Woof ! ” of disap- 
proval, which Ben must have thought very inhos- 
pitable to a neighbour on his first visit, for he 
ordered me impatiently to “ Get out ! ” 

I only stepped to one side, however, for I knew 
it was my duty to keep watch over every move- 
ment of the man. I knew, to my sorrow, what evil 
tricks he was capable of playing. I longed to tell 
Ben what a wicked man he was being courteous 
toward; he had shown him my deer hanging from 
the tree, given him a cigar and sat upon the stump 
and chatted and laughed familiarly for a long time. 
I gradually ventured to Ben’s side, feeling that he 
might need my protection, but forbore growling, 
for I knew I would be ordered back if I showed 
any further signs of viciousness. 

“ Oh, if Ben only knew the wicked designs in 
the man’s head ! ” thought I. 

When he finally took himself off, I dogged his 
steps far along the margin of the lake and saw 
him push away from shore in a canoe he had con- 
cealed under the overhanging bushes, and paddled 
off. 

“ Bad luck to you if you cross my path often ! ” 
I growled, as I took my last look after him and 
turned back to camp. 

That night another fox gave up his pelt, and 
his body was buried deep under the forest leaves 

231 


PUP 


a little way out of camp. That was another puz- 
zling thing to me, — why so much good meat should 
be wasted. Deer and duck, partridge and squirrel, 
all appeared on the cabin-table; but fox seemed to 
be tabooed. And this last one the men brought in 
was a particularly fat and handsome fellow ! Per- 
haps it was because he resembled a dog so closely 
they hadn’t the heart to cook the poor fellow. 

I can’t quite explain the reason for my act, but 
something prompted me to go out in the evening 
and howl over his grave. There was a sort of sorry 
feeling at my heart. Perhaps he was, after all, an 
untamed kind of dog, kin to some other that might 
be roaming lonely and sad in search of his brother, 
as I was longing for mine. 

The feast Ben spread for us that night was ex- 
travagant in its quantity and variety. There was 
venison roast and venison steaks and venison pie, 
delicately browned roast duck, squirrel broth, and 
dear knows what beside ! It was a marvel of camp- 
cookery, and a dog felt sorry that he hadn’t a bigger 
stomach to hold it all. 

I had almost forgotten the unpleasant events of 
the afternoon in the midst of all this good food 
and good cheer, and my lame sides gave me much 
less inconvenience, as I snuggled down by the fire 
for my evening snooze. The men had turned their 
attention to affairs of their own, and I had begun 
to think once more of my brother afar somewhere 
in the forest, and of the squirrel-hunts we might 

232 


PUP 


enjoy together if only we might meet; and so I 
lay, drowsy and content, in the warm firelight, 
undisturbed by the clatter of dishes or the click 
of gunlocks, as the men cleaned up their firearms 
after the day’s sport. 

I was so comfortable! Not a present trouble as 
I was slipping away into Dreamland ! I seemed 
to enter a delicious silence where the world and 
its distractions held no place. 

How long I slept I cannot tell, but suddenly an 
unearthly wail pierced the obscurity of my sleep- 
clogged brain, and I leaped to my feet, dazed and 
wondering. There sat Joe in the middle of the 
room, sawing out the most nerve-wrecking groans 
and moans from an old violin that it had been my 
misfortune to hear since I left Tom’s home months 
before. Every one seemed to enjoy my dismay, 
but it was torture to me. I simply could not endure 
it, and, with a howl of protest, I leaped through 
an open window and skulked away to bed in the 
corner of our tent, folded my ears close to my head, 
and closed my eyes. Even so, I could not wholly 
shut out the diabolical sounds, although they were 
softened by distance and made less painful. 

“ Well,” thought I, “ if I haven’t had trouble 
enough for one day! I wonder where on earth 
a dog can go to escape the abomination of old 
masters, yellow dogs, and fiddles ! ” 

How fortunate that daylight dispels these buga- 
boos of night! Otherwise, a greyhound would not 

233 


PUP 


be the lively, joyous companion by day that Tom 
and his friends always found me. I treasured no 
ill-will against Joe, when I found him with one of 
the men plucking birds over by the stump next 
morning ; I remembered only what fun we were all 
having in the woods, and how good this same par- 
tridge-broth would taste on my bread at night. 
Water actually dripped from my jowls in antici- 
pation. 

Others were skinning squirrels, and Tom and Ted 
were just coming up the lake-path from a morning 
swim. I ran down to meet them, and while they 
went into the tent to dress I slipped around to the 
kitchen to Ben for my breakfast. 

It was late in the forenoon before the party got 
off to the hunt. As before, I was left in camp. 
I walked irresolutely about for a while, trying to 
make up my mind if I would better sneak off by 
myself and try to find the greyhound Yellow Dog 
had told me about. It was contrary to orders, I 
knew, and Ben kept a pretty sharp eye out for me, 
for he had evidently noticed me looking anxiously 
out into the forest, and suspected some design on 
my part to elude him; so I concluded to abandon 
the idea for the present, at least, until I was less 
closely guarded. 

I watched Ben carrying quilts in from the line 
and in various other ways busy around the front 
of the cabin. A gray squirrel ran along the ground 
and up the trunk of a tree beneath which I lay, and 

234 


PUP 


barked impudently down at me. We had no gun; 
what was the use of my chasing him? Besides, 
hadn’t we already a plenty of him in the kitchen 
for a squirrel pie? Let him bark! 

I think it must have aggravated Ben to see him 
so saucy and defiant; for he caught up a small 
club and flung it into the tree with all his might. 
I laughed at Ben’s spunk, but thought it poor judg- 
ment if he expected to kill a squirrel with a stick. 
My estimate of Ben, however, rose considerably 
when the little creature came tumbling to the ground 
directly under my nose, and, jumping up in sur- 
prise, I stood looking at the little gray thing lying 
motionless at my feet. 

“ So a club can kill as well as a gun ! Well, on 
the whole,” thought I, “ why doesn’t Tom use clubs? 
I dislike the bang of a gun, anyway.” 

I stuck my nose down to roll him over and per- 
haps to give him a final shake, if I thought it 
necessary, when, to my horror and dismay, the 
shamming little beast seized my nose in his teeth. 
The long, needle-like incisors cut into my quivering 
flesh like so many tiny knife-blades, and his nails 
fastened themselves in my jowls as they do to the 
bark of a tree. I let out such a howl of terror 
and pain that Ben rushed to me instantly with a 
stick. I couldn’t shake the thing off. With every 
effort I made his teeth and nails sank deeper into 
my flesh, but a blow from the stick freed me from 
the painful and humiliating situation. 

235 


PUP 


I suppose guns are best after all, for the squirrels 
Tom kills never come to life again to bite a dog ! 

I was disgusted that Ben should laugh at me. 
I fail to see anything very funny in having a vicious 
squirrel hanging for dear life to one’s nose. I 
wonder if Ben would have felt like laughing if our 
positions had been reversed. 

I was so indignant I decided to go off and find 
my greyhound in the forest, whether Ben liked it 
or not. I felt humiliated and outraged beyond en- 
durance. Ben might call to me, he might hunt 
for me and worry until he felt sorry, but I wouldn’t 
stay in camp if I were to receive such unkind 
treatment! And I slunk behind the tent and crept 
slyly off through the bushes. 

Misfortune seemed to be my portion all day, for 
I had gone but a short distance when I saw the 
old master prowling around. It looked suspiciously 
like mischief brewing, and, without myself being 
seen, I crept quietly back to guard the camp. 

Evidently Ben had not discovered my absence, 
and I think he began to feel sorry he had injured 
my feelings so deeply, for he gave me a nice lunch 
and was particularly sociable. I kept close at his 
heels until the men came in from the hunt. I 
wanted so much to warn him of the enemy that I 
felt sure was plotting harm to some of us; but 
there are some things a dog cannot make men un- 
derstand. I had plainly shown my disapproval the 


236 


PUP 


day before, but Ben chose to think it a dog’s whim, 
and ignored it completely. 

Ah, if he had but heeded my warning, what trou- 
ble might have been spared me ! And yet, it proved 
the means whereby my life’s desire was to be 
gratified. 


237 


PUP 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY 

There was great jollification in camp that night, 
and I couldn’t comprehend its significance. 

To be sure, Ben showed them the squirrel that 
played me such a nasty trick, and evidently told 
them the story, but that, surely, couldn’t explain 
all the hilarity that made the cabin ring with songs 
and laughter. 

They had brought in but little game, — only a 
few partridges and a squirrel or two; that was 
no event to celebrate with feasting! 

I understood it better in the morning. 

Even Ben was marshalled into line with the others 
that started out carrying ropes, axes, and various 
other things. I was allowed to follow, and the 
camp was left deserted. 

Under a heap of loosely piled brush not far away 
lay hidden the body of a deer, shot the night before 
and left to be brought into camp next morning. 
Some saplings were cut and a sort of stretcher made, 
upon which the carcass was rolled, and with many 
“ hurrahs ” the second deer was brought home. 

238 


PUP 


The greatest triumph of a sportsman had been 
achieved ! 

There seemed to be no further disposition on 
the part of the men to hunt that day, and, after 
the deer was skinned and hung up, they disposed of 
themselves in various ways. Tom and Ted went 
out in the canoe after ducks; one or two of the 
men lay in the bunks reading; others sat around 
the fire and smoked; while Joe helped Ben in the 
kitchen. I hung around watching affairs until the 
boys started for the lake, then I followed the shore 
up a little distance and lay down in a patch of 
sunshine to watch them at their duck-shooting. 

My legs had not had the proper sort of exercise 
since I came into the forest. I needed a wide, open 
space wherein to race, without having to dodge 
trees and creep through bushes; and I wished, as 
I lay there looking over the smooth lake, that it 
were solid earth. I longed for a crow to chase; 
but one seldom caught a glimpse of the sky in 
these thick woods, except by the lake. I saw a 
V-shaped flight of birds overhead, due southward, 
with a loud “ Honk, honk ! ” from its leader, and 
watched them curiously, as they flew low over the 
water. 

The sun made me drowsy. My eyes grew tired 
following the canoe and the wild geese, and I laid 
my nose between my paws to nap it until the boys 
should paddle back to camp. 

A little brown snake wriggled out from the brush 

239 


PUP 


close at my nose, and stretched itself in the warm 
sunshine, and I had to watch that for a few min- 
utes to see whether I would have some fun with 
it or go on with my nap; then a frog leaped with 
a guttural “ chug ” into the water near by, and 
a partridge rose whirring from a fallen log in the 
thicket. What innumerable things were about me! 
There was no possible opportunity for sleep. They 
were all too familiar objects, however, to tempt me 
to a chase. The sunshine was too great a luxury 
to be abandoned for every-day occurrences, such 
as snakes and frogs and partridges. 

But presently a strange specimen of game came 
creeping out to the water’s edge, — a grayish white, 
furry creature, considerably bigger than a cat, hav- 
ing a long bushy tail with a black tip and several 
black rings around it. Its face resembled that of 
a fox somewhat, with its pointed nose, sharp ears, 
and keen eyes ; but it didn’t stand up on such long 
legs as a fox has. 

Altogether, it was a curiously unfamiliar animal 
to me. I was not so much surprised as interested, 
for these forests were so full of game I had long 
since ceased to be unduly excited over anything that 
appeared. 

The creature took a leisurely drink, and was about 
to lie down to sun itself when it seemed to sniff 
danger. The tip of its uplifted nose quivered under 
some delicate vibration of atmosphere, and, look- 
ing up in alarm, it discovered me. I had lain 

24Q 


PUP 


perfectly still, watching the creature with great 
curiosity. Not knowing what manner of beast I 
had to encounter, I thought it wisdom on my part 
to be a little discreet, particularly as I was so fresh 
from my battle with the squirrel ; and I also 
recollected other equally disastrous conflicts with 
strange animals; but when it saw me and scuttled 
away, I thought if it were going to run I would 
make a bluff at fight, anyway, and sprang to my 
feet and chased it up the tree. 

That was all a dog could do, except to bark, of 
course, since dogs cannot climb trees. 

Perhaps I might get a little fun teasing it. I 
didn’t know yet whether it could leap from tree 
to tree like squirrels, or whether it would just have 
to stay there and stand my tantalizing as cats do; 
at all events, I would bark and scare it into doing 
something. So I leaped about the tree-trunk, yap- 
ping and snapping as aggravatingly as a dog can; 
still the creature clung to a limb and made no at- 
tempt to run. I looked behind me over the lake 
and saw Tom paddling for the shore. I barked at 
him to hurry ; that I had a rare beast treed here, and 
to come quick with his gun. 

The men at the camp, hearing my outcry, came 
rushing up just as Tom ran the nose of the canoe 
into the bank and leaped ashore ; so for a few min- 
utes there was a pretty lively time. I sat back 
on my haunches, and, looking up into the tree, 
grinned in the creature’s face : “ I caught you, didn’t 

241 


PUP 


I? I wonder if you are good for a broth, or will 
we bury you beside the fox ? ” 

The thing made no sound ; neither did it attempt 
to run. It simply clung to the limb of the tree and 
watched the men below with its little bright eyes. 

There was a lot of controversy that I couldn’t 
understand; I was all the time wondering why 
they didn’t shoot. Finally, some scheme was ar- 
ranged to capture the creature alive, and it was 
brought into camp, where a cage was fixed for it, 
and it became a regularly installed member of our 
family. 

That evening there was more singing in the 
cabin. Tom and Ted started it, and the squad fol- 
lowed in the general chorus : “ Coon, coon, coon ! ” 
until the woods caught it up and seemed to answer 
back. 

I had heard the same words and the same tune 
sung by the urchins in the city streets, but I doubt 
if one of them had ever seen a raccoon. 

During the night my sleep was broken by a long, 
trembling cry, vibrating mournfully through the 
forest at intervals, and once it was answered by 
our captive. Was it his lonely mate? These mys- 
terious voices of the woods, coming out of the 
darkness and through the silence, make the nights 
uncanny for a greyhound who cannot understand 
them. 

For several nights after we captured the raccoon, 
we heard the tremulous, sad cry out of the distance, 

242 


PUP 


and, at last, a queer expedition was set out upon. 
The men, armed with blazing torches, filed out of 
camp under the guidance of Joe, and were gone 
hours. I shall never know what transpired on that 
strange hunt, because I was left locked in the cabin 
alone. When they returned they brought no game, so 
I can only suppose that, whatever their quest, it was 
a disappointment. Our raccoon, however, was not 
made into broth, neither was it buried beside the 
fox, but lived to return to the city, and for a long 
time had its cage in the stable near my own kennel. 

During these two or three days that had elapsed, 
I had caught the old master lurking around the 
outskirts of camp, and each time had dogged him 
threateningly to his canoe. He was becoming an 
hourly menace, and I resolved I would endure it 
no longer. I couldn’t tell just what my plan was 
to be. I think I really had no definite plan, except 
to spring upon him ; but, whatever the results, since 
he had defied my repeated warnings, the conse- 
quences must rest upon his own head. 

It was with these thoughts in my mind that I 
stood in my favourite spot of sunshine by the lake 
and saw the flash of paddles as a canoe appeared 
within my range of vision. When it came still 
nearer, I recognized my persecutor. It headed 
straight for me, and the man whistled good- 
humouredly and called me “ Nice fellow,” and 
“ Good Pup,” and other complimentary names ; but 
I was not to be deluded by fine words, I knew 

243 


PUP 


the fellow was a hypocrite and wanted only to 
get his hands at my collar. I met the canoe at the 
water’s edge, resolute, snarling, vindictive. I 
growled and showed my teeth and forbade his 
landing. He paddled farther up-shore, and I fol- 
lowed, warning him not to attempt a landing there, 
either. If he came from the other shore, to the 
other shore he should return. 

I continued to follow him, and he made another 
attempt to conciliate me with pretty speeches, but 
I was still savage and unrelenting, and, baffled at 
every point, he turned the nose of the canoe about 
and, cursing under his breath, paddled away. I 
watched him silently, but without yielding one foot 
of my position, until I saw him disappear in the 
distance. 

Then I turned away with a sense of relief and 
satisfaction — relief that I was rid of him for the 
day, and satisfaction that, at last, I had made it 
plain to him that he could not roam our woods and 
continue to annoy a peaceful sportsman’s camp with 
his unwelcome presence. 

My purpose now was to venture a little farther 
into the forest, hoping to hear the voice of the 
greyhound. 

The day was unusually warm for middle October, 
and I often stopped to rest. It was very tiresome 
walking through dead brush and fallen leaves and 
leaping prostrate tree-trunks and working one’s way 
through the labyrinth of dense undergrowth ; be- 

244 


PUP 


sides, I often fancied I heard the far-away yelp of a 
hound borne in upon my ear by the passing puffs of 
wind, and I hushed the crackling of twigs under- 
neath my feet and the swish of parting shrubbery to 
listen. Then I resumed my patient, earnest search. 

I grew thirsty, and made my way to the lake 
once more to drink. There were ducks and shadows 
on the water, but no canoe, and, thirst and curiosity 
satisfied, I returned again to my quest. 

I once heard the snappy bark of Yellow Dog, but 
cared too little about him to reply ; it would be 
only to receive some uncivil retort, and it wasn’t 
worth while. 

At last I became conscious of hunger, and thought 
of the camp with dismay. I must be a weary dis- 
tance from home and supper, and I was already 
footsore from my day’s tramp. The hours had 
passed unheeded, and the forest was darkening. 
The wind blew colder and moaned dismally through 
the trees. I shivered a bit, for my coat was thin. 
I was no nearer the greyhound, apparently, than 
when I left camp in the morning, and not a person 
had I encountered during the day. A deer had sped 
across my way not long before, and, terrified at 
sight of me, had crashed away into the depths of 
the woods, while I was left alone, tired and hungry, 
far from home and with night settling fast upon 
the solitude of the forest. Heartsick, I turned once 
more toward the lake to follow its shore homeward. 

As I picked my difficult way along, a sudden 

245 


PUP 


puff of wind brought the odour of cooking to my 
nostrils, and, almost in the same moment, I saw 
a bright light through an opening in the shrubbery. 
Making quickly toward it, I found a cabin similar 
to our own, and through its open door a bright fire 
shone hospitably out into the darkening woods and 
promised human companionship to a tired and 
hungry dog. 

My spirits rose high as I anticipated a bone and 
rest, instead of the weary, hungry homeward tramp 
in the night. I walked around to the rear of the 
kitchen, where I was accustomed to look for stray 
bones at my own camp, and was about to inves- 
tigate the contents of a pan that sat beside the door, 
when a savage clutch laid hold of my collar from 
behind, and, struggling and yelping at this sur- 
prising attack and the choking pain at my throat, 
I was dragged into the house and the door closed 
upon me. I was soon muzzled, in spite of vigorous 
resistance on my part, and let loose in a dark out- 
building, to find myself a prisoner of my old master. 
Unkind fate had thrust me, wretched and forlorn, 
into the hands of the enemy. 


246 


PUP 


CHAPTER XXV. 

THE END OF THE QUEST 


Trapped ! 

Oh, the folly, the humiliation, the misery of it! 
I stood in the darkness of my prison-shed in the 
impotency of rage and terror, my jaws too tightly 
muzzled for a howl of protest to escape them, de- 
prived of the power to cry for help. 

Not a flicker of light entered my gloomy prison. 
There was an aperture of some sort, which at day- 
break I discovered to be a small window ; but now 
I felt, rather than saw, its friendly opening by the 
breeze that came through it in fitful puffs and 
touched me where I stood. 

I paced the room nervously and nosed around 
the walls to see if there might not possibly be some 
board to push aside or a door left carelessly ajar; 
but the walls seemed as formidable as the great 
stone jetty at Bayside. 

I could whine; but that was degradation, when 
the pleading would reach no ears but those of my 
unworthy captor. I could humble myself and would 

247 


PUP 


do so in the presence of any one less contemptible ; 
but a dog may possess a sense of self-respect, and in 
moments of his greatest misfortune refuse to abase 
himself. 

I was given a pan of water and a dish of broth, 
both of which I sucked uncomfortably through my 
teeth, for my jaws were bound too closely for lap- 
ping. Both water and broth tasted good to me, 
for I had fasted since morning, and my weariness 
had brought on a painful thirst. After satisfying 
myself that nothing could be done to effect an 
escape that night, I lay down in a corner and went 
to sleep. In spite of my distressful predicament, 
I slept well; probably because so thoroughly over- 
come by excitement and fatigue. 

I could not awake the next morning otherwise 
than to a vivid sense of my unfortunate condition; 
for the floor of cold earth could by no stretch of 
imagination delude me into feeling that I was in 
my own warm cabin or on the soft quilts of my 
tent-chamber, and the gloom that pervaded the little 
rude shed was only grudgingly dispelled by the 
western light that filtered through the oak foliage 
and entered my little window. There was an odour 
of dogs about the place. It had probably been built 
to shelter a hunter's pack, but evidently I repre- 
sented all the pack of the present occupant of the 
camp. It would have been less miserable for me 
had there been others to share my solitude; but, 
alas, I was alone ! 


248 


PUP 


My breakfast was brought to me, — warm broth 
and bread, — and the strap about my nose loosened 
a bit to permit me to eat; but my master took 
good care to keep behind me, out of reach of my 
jaws, for I looked at him wickedly and growled 
under my breath. Then, breakfast over, I was re- 
muzzled, tethered to the log-wall near the open 
window, and left alone once more. 

Under such conditions, there isn’t much a dog 
can do except to think ; and so, during all the lonely 
day, my prison was made more a place of horror 
than before, by the recollection of my happy past. 
All the bright visions of spring and summer and 
autumn arrayed themselves in mournful procession 
before my inward sight, and I groaned in spirit. 

At last I stretched out upon the damp earth and 
tried to shut the exasperating memories from my 
mind by naps. 

At evening I was led out for exercise through 
the woods. I plodded sullenly along at my captor’s 
heels, making no sound and rejecting all overtures 
of friendship. The night and the day following 
passed in the same manner as before, until, late in 
the afternoon, as I stood with my nose at the win- 
dow, looking up into the big oak that overhung the 
shed, I heard a rustle of leaves beneath and soft 
footsteps ; they fell too lightly for the master’s. 

“ Woof ! ” I ventured, cautiously. 

The steps halted and the rustling of leaves ceased. 

“ Woof ! ” I repeated, a little louder. 

249 


PUP 


“ Woof ! ” came the surprised answer. “ Who 
is it? ” 

“Woo-o -ooo I said, softly, in an undertone. 
“ Come nearer. Are you a friend ? ” 

“ I’m a friend, if you’re in trouble. What can 
I do for you ? Who are you ? ” 

I told him my story. 

“ But tell me,” I said, anxiously, “ are you not 
a greyhound, too ; the one whose voice I’ve heard 
in the forest and of whom Yellow Dog told me? 
Your voice has the same note as mine.” 

“ So you’ve met Yellow Dog, have you? Well,” 
he laughed, “ he isn’t apt to give a fellow much 
of a reputation, usually ! I wonder at your wanting 
to make my acquaintance.” 

“But I do!” I protested. “And just now I 
want your help to escape. I want to know you 
because Yellow Dog tells me you resemble me, and 
I have a feeling that you may be one of my brothers, 
from whom I was cruelly separated long ago when 
I was the merest puppy.” 

“ I do remember brothers, and I remember how, 
one by one, they were taken from my mother until 
only myself was left to comfort her,” my new friend 
replied, sadly, as if it awakened unhappy memories. 
“ But I will call master ; he is near by, and per- 
haps he will help you. I cannot unbar doors.” 

My friend’s short, sharp barks were quickly fol- 
lowed by the sound of the heavy tread of a man’s 
feet. I heard his coaxing whine and then the 

250 


PUP 


cheery response: “All right, boy! What is it? 
Lead on ! ” The next moment a welcome face 
appeared at my window. 

I leaped and strained at my leash and whined, 
trying to tell my sad story, but so much of it had 
to be guessed at that it left my greyhound’s master 
powerless to release me. 

“ Oh, that a dog could speak in human tongue ! 
Oh, that I could make him know that he had a 
right to give me my liberty ! ” But pitying me in 
my unwholesome confinement was all that he could 
do, and he turned away and whistled my friend to 
follow. 

“ Don’t go ! ” I whined, piteously. “ Do not 
forsake m£ ! ” 

“ I’ll come again, brother,” cheerfully answered 
my friend, as he obediently followed his master. 

“ Brother ! ” How inexpressibly sweet the en- 
dearing name and the comforting assurance fell 
upon my ear ! I resigned myself with less of hope- 
less rebellion in my heart, since some one had come 
to me in my prison retreat, and that one, I felt 
confident, could be none other than my own kin- 
dred. 

Evening came again, and with it my jailer and 
the walk in the forest. 

Exactly how it happened I never quite knew, but 
I realized enough to understand that in the fall my 
captor was hurt nigh unto death. We had stumbled 
along together in the dim light, following the shore 

251 


PUP 


just within shelter of the trees, when he lurched 
heavily to one side and dropped helpless upon the 
ground, dragging me with a painful jerk of the 
leash at my throat along with him. For a few 
minutes he lay where he had fallen without a sound 
or a struggle, then he made an attempt to get upon 
his feet. He appeared, however, to be too badly 
injured, for, with a groan and curses, he fell back 
upon the leaves. He had not lost hold of my leash 
in the fall; so I was still his prisoner. After re- 
peated attempts to rise and loud groans and dread- 
ful oaths, he tied my leash to his arm and resigned 
himself to whatever might happen. I don’t know 
why he didn’t shout for help. I couldn’t howl, for 
I was still in muzzle, and I soon gave up tugging 
at my bonds, for they were relentless. 

Thus I began my lonely night vigil, and the hours 
wore their slow flight away. 

Here and there as I looked up a star shone 
through the half-denuded branches of the trees. 
An owl hooted mournfully in the distance, and the 
tremulous wail of a raccoon echoed uncannily 
around me. I whimpered in nervous apprehension 
at these ghostly voices of the midnight, while snap- 
ping twigs here and there around me only intensi- 
fied my alarm and made me alert for wild beasts 
that might prove more formidable than owls or 
coons to a dog deprived of his liberty, and to the 
man who lay there more helpless even than I. 

The chill of an October night was in the air, and 

252 


PUP 


the damp earth, upon which no ray of sunlight 
ever fell, afforded scant comfort to a short-haired 
dog like me. I shivered and crept whining to my 
captor’s side. Our common suffering aroused pity 
in the breast of each, and he threw an arm about 
me and drew himself closer to my body; and so, 
with alternate groans and curses on his part, and 
weary vigil upon mine, the night wore on into the 
dawn. 

Day brought no change in the situation to either 
dog or man, unless it were for the worse. I whined 
for my liberty, and would have carried the story 
of his misfortune where help could reach him, if 
it were possible, but he still kept me tethered to 
his arm, so that, in the possibility of sleep over- 
taking him, I could not escape. 

Thirst seized us both, and, after hours of groan- 
ing and feverish unrest, he made a desperate attempt 
to reach the lake whose waters we could see glisten- 
ing through the undergrowth. Although close at 
hand, the effort was painfully slow, as he dragged 
his prostrate body almost inch by inch over the 
fallen limbs and leaves. 

Upon reaching the lakeside, he mercifully un- 
strapped my muzzle, and side by side we drank the 
blessed water that meant new lease of life and 
relieved some of the agony of suffering. We re- 
mained by the water during the day. At intervals 
he reached out and wet his handkerchief, laying it 
across his face or putting it to his feverish lips, 

253 


PUP 


while I, because of the length of my leash, lapped 
frequently to allay hunger as well as thirst. 

Meanwhile, I ventured to bark for help. Finding 
he offered me no abuse, I continued to bark, stop- 
ping only at intervals to wet my parched tongue in 
the cool lake water. I had hopes of my voice 
reaching some camp or attracting the attention of 
some hunter, — perhaps Tom, or the Yellow Dog’s 
master, or my own new-found brother, — for 
brother I was sure he must be. But not an answer- 
ing bark, not a responsive human voice, nor even 
a rifle-shot did we hear through the long, heart- 
despairing hours. 

The wood was already beginning to take on the 
gloom of approaching night, and shadows were 
lengthening over the lake. I felt once more the 
chill of October frosts falling upon us, and abject 
despair took the place of any brief moments of hope 
I may have felt. My barking changed to howls of 
anguish. I could hear my own voice, caught up 
by the farther shore, die away in faint and mournful 
echoes. 

“ Why does it not reach some friendly ear ? ” I 
whined, in pity for my own sad plight. 

At last my straining eyes discerned a spot on the 
water, far down the breast of the lake. I looked 
eagerly — breathless, almost. It came nearer; 
slowly, to be sure, but still toward me. I made 
out a canoe and two men. I barked frantically, 
leaped and yelped in excess of new-born hope ; and 

254 


PUP 


still steadily on came the canoe, until a glad shout 
rang over the water, in answer to my frenzied 
cries. 

“ My Tom ! My deliverer ! ” 

Actual tears of emotion trickled from my eyes, as 
I crouched, whining the gratitude I could not ex- 
press in human language. Our meeting cannot be 
described ; there are moments in the lives of dogs 
and men when words are inadequate. When a great 
flood of assurance illumines the blackness of a 
despairing soul, who can voice the emotions? 

At first there were angry threats and scowling 
faces from Tom and Ted, answered by feeble pro- 
tests from my old master. 

When they found me half-starved, miserable, 
and tied to prevent escape, and remembered all the 
trouble the man had given them, — of the worry 
and the two long anxious days of tramping through 
the forest in search of their dear old “ Pup,” they 
were so angry that nothing saved the man from a 
good pounding except his helpless condition. But 
of course they were too manly to fight a sick man, 
although they told him in pretty plain terms what 
they thought of him, and threatened him with 
arrest when they could get him out of the woods. 
At last he stopped them, saying: 

“ Tom Ross, your father is too just a man to 
kick a fellow when he is down, as much as he has 
reason to despise me; he wouldn’t be so hard on 
a poor unfortunate wretch as you are; I don’t 

255 


PUP 


blame you, — I deserve it, — every bit of it, — but 
listen a few minutes. I am weak and my head 
whirls, — I can’t talk much, but perhaps you will 
pity me a little, as well as hate me, when you hear 
how I have suffered. I have lain here forty-eight 
hours with a broken leg; my only hope was in 
the possibility of Greyhound attracting help, for 
pain, cold, hunger, and fever were fast making an 
end of me when you came. Don’t you see that 
was why I couldn’t let Greyhound go free? Miser- 
able as I knew myself to be, yet a man doesn’t want 
to die alone in a place like this when a possibility 
of relief remains in sight! Do you think a man 
can lie face to face with death in the awful loneliness 
of these woods and not do some hard thinking? 
Do you think I am not sorry for the wrong I’ve 
done others, and the thousand times greater wrong 
I’ve done myself? Ah, my boy! whatever your lot 
in life, live so that you can face your own con- 
science when you come to die! No reproaches are 
harder to meet than those of your own soul. 

“ Tom, I was not always mean and contemptible ; 
I was once as clean and respected as your father, 
— but trouble came, — trouble that drove me to 
drink, — drink forced me into poverty and contempt 
of law, and at last to the crime of theft. 

“ My first misstep was when I thought to drown 
trouble in drink instead of fighting it with manli- 
ness; that is where so many of us fail of true 
manhood. Remember it, and if misfortune over- 

256 


PUP 


take you in your life, think of this scene and brace 
up to a manly fight. With God’s help I mean to 
begin the battle now, if I live, and I will meet you 
again, sometime, when you shall not be ashamed to 
shake hands with me. 

“And, Tom, I must begin by confessing to you 
the part I have played in regard to Greyhound, for 
I have wronged you as well as others. If I live 
I will right this wrong as far as dollars and cents 
can do it; if I die, tell Greyhound’s rightful owner 
that a miserable wretch is sorry; this is all I can 
do in my present condition. 

“ I have never been able to keep a situation long 
because of my drunken sprees, and when Mr. Forbes 
— Greyhound’s owner — discharged me, I stole the 
pup and kept him hidden until I thought he was too 
old to be identified. I expected to sell him for a 
big price, for his mother is a valuable dog. Un- 
fortunately — or fortunately, either way you choose 
to put it — I sold him to your father when I was too 
drunk to know what I was about; he wouldn’t 
let me buy him back because he saw me abuse him. 
I tried repeatedly to steal ‘ Pup,’ partly because 
I wanted the money value of him, and partly out of 
spite because your father wouldn’t let me refund the 
money and take him by honest means, when I came 
to myself and found what I had done. 

“ It was I who entered the stable ; it was I who 
tried to steal him from your mother that night on 
the Public Garden. I did not follow you to Bay- 

257 


PUP 


side, nor down here into camp, — these encounters 
have been purely by accident. I was on my way 
to the Maine woods to hide awhile from the con- 
sequences of a drunken brawl, when I was tempted 
by the sight of the old familiar beach to stop over 
one train at Oceanview, and there I ran across Grey- 
hound ; then you followed after me to these camps, 
where some strange fate threw the dog in my way 
once more. 

“ Mr. Forbes lives on Bay State Avenue ; fix it 
up with him and I’ll do the best I am able to do 
to make the affair right when I get well. Now, 
won’t you help a fellow to make a new start by 
forgiving him ? ” 

Then the voices of Tom and Ted softened to pity 
and solicitude, for their generous natures could 
not long remain indifferent to suffering, and it 
resulted in Ted’s paddling away for assistance, leav- 
ing Tom to care for the unfortunate man and to 
keep me company. Tom stripped off his coat, in 
spite of the chilly night, and made a pillow for the 
sick man’s head, bathed his lips and sat by his side, 
talking in a low, gentle voice, with one hand resting 
affectionately upon my head, as I lay at his feet. 

As we sat there in the loneliness, awaiting the 
return of Ted, a rifle-shot broke the stillness — one 
— two — and another — in quick succession, then 
the exultant bark of a dog, whose voice I at once 
recognized as my brother’s. Simultaneously, Tom 
and I sprang to our feet. I barked loudly, while 

258 


PUP 


Tom, making a trumpet of his hands, sent halloo 
after halloo echoing through the woods. An an- 
swering shout and another trumpet-call for help 
were speedily followed by the appearance of the 
friends who had visited me in my cabin prison. 

Between dog and dog the meeting was joyful. 
Little attention we paid to the greetings of the 
men ; but in the sweet companionship and exchange 
of confidences, as we walked around each other in 
admiration of our many points of resemblance, we 
occasionally remarked the earnest conversation be- 
tween the two men and the frequent glances toward 
my new-found brother and me, and knew that in the 
city of our puppyhood we had a common mother. 

Ted returned with Joe, the guide, and Mr. Ross, 
bringing food and quilts in the bottom of the canoe. 
Joe fed the old master with warm, nourishing broth. 
Tom dropped chunk after chunk of juicy venison 
into my mouth, until the gnawing pangs at my 
stomach were soothed; then the chill and gloom 
of the forest held no further terrors for a grey- 
hound. 

Mr. Ross spoke but little to the sick man, but 
his voice was kind and persuasive as he took his 
hand at meeting. 

Tenderly, pitifully, the sufferer was laid on the 
soft bed of quilts in the bottom of the canoe. Tom 
led me to his side, and he patted my head softly, 
while a tear stole down his pain-drawn face, and 
he said, in a tone I had hitherto heard from no 

259 


PUP 


man’s lips : “ Good-bye, old fellow ! I wish your 
dog’s heart knew what is in mine to say ! ” then 
turned his face sadly away, and Joe paddled him 
off in the deepening twilight. 

Ah, but didn’t a greyhound’s heart comprehend 
that gentle caress, the tender remorse in the good- 
bye, and the gratitude in the last look of the suffer- 
ing face? Who dares say I cannot read the hearts 
of men ! 

Thus he passed from my sight for ever; and, 
with this passing and the incoming of my brother,, 
life sped along through years of peace and content. 

Side by side, my brother and I followed the 
rickety old wagon out of our forest paradise, as 
weeks before I had followed it in. Together we 
journeyed in the baggage-car to our city homes, 
thenceforth to live in frequent companionship, 
although in different parts of the town. Year by 
year our kennels have stood beside one another at 
Exhibition Hall, and our mother still looks fondly 
and proudly upon her two high-bred sons from her 
own post of honour. 


THE END. 


260 
































